


Playing for Keeps

by enigmaticblue



Series: Child's Play [5]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, F/M, Kid Fic, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-30
Updated: 2013-11-30
Packaged: 2018-01-03 01:37:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1064141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmaticblue/pseuds/enigmaticblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Coulson has always been something of an enigma—until he’s not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Playing for Keeps

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the “kidfic” prompt for trope_bingo. You should consider this series complete at this point.

**1.**

 

Steve presses the button next to “P. Coulson” and tucks his hands in his pockets, feeling a little more nervous than is strictly warranted. They’re just hanging out, a couple of guys who have discovered they like one another’s company.

 

But he can’t quite shake the feeling that there’s a little more to it than that, or there could be.

 

There’s no immediate response, and Steve pushes the button again. It’s possible that Phil had to work late, and Steve checks his phone for messages. Finding none, he rocks back on his heels and considers his options.

 

He tries Phil’s cell phone, but it goes straight to voicemail.

 

A middle-aged woman exits, giving him a startled smile. “Are you—”

 

“Steve Rogers, ma’am,” he replies with his most charming smile. “I’m here to visit a friend.”

 

“I don’t suppose you’d mind giving me an autograph,” she says with a hopeful expression. “For my son?”

 

“Happy to,” Steve replies, and she digs around in her purse for something for him to write on and with. He scrawls his signature, which is a practiced gesture by now, and she thanks him profusely.

 

“My son is going to flip,” she enthuses, opening the front door for Steve. “Have a great evening.”

 

“You, too,” Steve replies sincerely. “Thanks.”

 

“No, thank _you_ ,” she says, and Steve escapes inside, wondering if he should wear a disguise in the future, although being recognized worked for him tonight.

 

Phil lives in a pre-war building in Morningside Heights, with red brick exterior and a tiled lobby with a bank of locked mailboxes. The elevator creaks a bit as it takes Steve up to the fourth floor, and the gilded fixtures are flaking a bit.

 

Steve can’t help but feel at home, because while he’s sure this building would have been too nice for a poor kid from Brooklyn when he was a kid, it still looks familiar.

 

He finds it strangely appropriate that Phil would live here, in a building like this, and he can’t help but compare it to Stark Tower, and its sleek, modern Penthouse, or the shabby walkup where Steve still lives.

 

Then again, all those places feel like home to him, just in very different ways.

 

Steve knocks on Phil’s door and gets no answer, which isn’t a surprise, considering that he hadn’t buzzed Steve in. Now that he’s standing here, Steve has no idea what to do; he hadn’t really thought this far ahead when he’d been standing outside in the chilly fall air.

 

Just for something to do, Steve calls Phil again, and it goes directly to voicemail.

 

It’s just not like Phil to stand someone up without so much as a word, and if it’s a job that’s keeping him busy, Steve should know about it. Hell, the whole team would know about it.

 

Following his gut, Steve calls Bruce, who answers immediately. “I’m not bothering you, am I?” Steve asks.

 

Bruce’s voice is warm with amusement when he says, “I wouldn’t have answered if you were going to bother me. What’s up?”

 

“I was supposed to meet Phil at his place to hang out,” Steve explains awkwardly. “He’s not here, or he’s not answering his door, or his phone. I just—I’m worried.”

 

“It’s not like Phil to miss a date,” Bruce agrees. “I can track the GPS on his phone, although if he’s not _with_ his phone, that’s not going to help much.”

 

Steve shrugs, knowing Bruce can’t see him, and focuses on the faded blue paint in the hallway, and the cracks in the plaster. “It gives us a place to start.”

 

“Lucky for you, Tony is paranoid and likes to keep tabs on everybody on the team,” Bruce replies. “It’s not going to take me long.”

 

Steve laughs. “Lucky that Tony spies on his own team?”

 

“I wouldn’t say he’s spying exactly,” Bruce hedges, and Steve hears the sound of typing. Tony doesn’t use a keyboard, but Bruce tends to favor them. “I’d say that he wants to make sure he can track us down if something happens.”

 

“And that includes Phil?” Steve asks.

 

Bruce hums in agreement. “I don’t think Tony’s forgiven him for dying yet. At least, he’s not going to forget it in this lifetime.”

 

Steve winces at the reminder but doesn’t reply. He doesn’t much like the idea of anything happening to Phil.

 

“All right, I’ve got it,” Bruce says, and then there’s a long, pregnant pause. “Doesn’t Phil live in Morningside Heights?”

 

Steve swallows. “Why?”

 

“Because his phone is there,” Bruce replies. “Unless he’s somewhere else in the building, he’s in his apartment.”

 

Steve has a sudden fear that Phil is sick, or maybe injured, and he says, “I’m going to break down the door. I’ll call you in a few minutes, okay?”

 

“Be careful,” Bruce replies, and Steve hangs up. He tries the door first, and when he finds it locked, he puts his shoulder to the door and shoves hard, hearing the frame splinter.

 

It’s the first time Steve has been in Phil’s apartment, and he looks around the front hall, at the cream-colored walls and scarred wooden floor, leading into a living room with leather furniture that looks well worn. There are a few art prints on the walls, along with a collection of World War II propaganda posters, which Steve takes in very quickly.

 

There’s a low counter separating the tiny kitchen from the rest of the apartment, and Steve spots the leg of a familiar suit sticking out from behind it.

 

For a moment, Steve thinks the worst—that Phil has had a heart attack, or something just as bad—and he falls to his knees, and then freezes when he realizes what has _really_ happened.

 

He fumbles for a pulse, feeling smooth skin and finding Phil’s heartbeat strong and certain.

 

Steve sits back on his heels and just _stares_. Phil’s cheeks are rounder, the line of his jaw softer, and he has more hair.

 

His phone rings, and Steve pulls it out of his pocket, seeing Bruce’s name on the screen, realizing that he hasn’t called Bruce back. “Bruce.”

 

“Steve, is Phil okay?” Bruce asks anxiously.

 

“He’s, um, he’s younger,” Steve replies, “like what happened to me and you. But I don’t understand why. Loki is still on Asgard, and that kid’s still in jail.”

 

“How’s Phil?” Bruce asks calmly. “Is he awake?”

 

“He’s still unconscious,” Steve replies, looking around, seeing an empty cardboard box on the floor several feet away. “There’s an empty box.”

 

“Stay where you are and don’t touch anything,” Bruce orders. “Tony and I are on our way.”

 

“What if he wakes up?” Steve asks.

 

“You can move him then, just keep him calm,” Bruce says. “But we’ll be there as soon as we can, okay?”

 

“Yeah, okay,” Steve replies, feeling a little out of his depth.

 

Phil is… _Phil_. Steve has seen him hurt, and frustrated, and tired, but he’d never really been _vulnerable_ like this.

 

Steve swallows hard and gets ahold of himself. He doesn’t quite know why he’s so shaken, but he needs to put that aside and deal with the problem at hand.

 

It’s still Phil, and he’d looked after Steve when Steve had been small. Steve can do no less for him.

 

Mindful of Bruce’s instruction, Steve just loosens Phil’s tie and then pulls off his jacket, carefully placing it under Phil’s head.

 

He doesn’t have to wait long, and Steve might believe that Tony had flown, but the suit is nowhere in evidence, and they each have a bag in hand.

 

“You okay, Steve?” Bruce asks, crouching down next to Steve and Phil’s still form.

 

Steve nods. “I’m fine. It’s just—weird.”

 

Bruce grimaces. “It is definitely weird.” He pulls out a stethoscope and begins checking Phil out. “Tony?”

 

“Almost there,” Tony replies, and it looks like he’s setting up some kind of camera.

 

“What are you doing?” Steve asks.

 

Tony shrugs. “Taking some readings, that’s all. I want to see if we can reconstruct what happened to him.”

 

“Move back,” Bruce orders. “We’ll let Tony get his readings, and then we’ll make Phil more comfortable.”

 

Steve allows Bruce to pull him away, and Tony does whatever it is he’s doing with what looks like an especially hi-tech camera.

 

“Okay,” Tony says. “Let’s get our dear agent somewhere more comfortable.”

 

It’s said jokingly, but with a sincere undercurrent that Steve is better able to read after months spent in Tony’s proximity.

 

If Tony is joking, that means things are under control, and Steve appreciates the fact that both Bruce and Tony are taking this in stride.

 

“I can take care of it,” Bruce offers. “If that would make you feel more comfortable, Steve.”

 

Steve realizes that Bruce is talking about undressing Phil, and he can feel his face heat at the thought. “Uh, maybe you should.”

 

Bruce picks Phil up easily, and Tony spots the cardboard box that was lying next to him. “Hello, what’s this?”

 

“I don’t know,” Steve replies. “Bruce said not to touch anything.”

 

“The better to figure out what’s going on,” Tony agrees. “It looks like he might have opened it right about the same time he got hit with the spell, or whatever it was.” He grimaces. “And how much do I hate those words coming out of my mouth right now?”

 

Steve snorts. “I thought you said that magic is science we don’t yet understand.”

 

Tony shrugs, looking disgruntled. “Yeah, and it chaps my ass that some kid with an internet connection and delusions of grandeur figured it out when the answer still eludes me.” He looks around, and comes up with what looks like a crystal. “I think we may have found the item responsible, although you’d think a SHIELD agent would be more careful when opening strange packages.”

 

Steve picks up the cardboard box and looks at the return address. “He probably opened it because he thought his sister sent it.”

 

“Phil has a sister?” Tony asks. “I thought he’d been hatched from an egg.”

 

Steve rolls his eyes. “So, does this mean we can reverse it?”

 

“Not until we figure out how it happened in the first place, and then find something to test it on,” Tony ticks off the steps on his fingers. “And that’s all before we can even attempt to reverse what happened to Phil. Chances are, it’s going to wear off first.”

 

Steve groans. “But that will take months!”

 

“True, but we’ve got the whole team to help,” Tony says blithely. “And you know how Bruce feels about kids. Phil will be in good hands.”

 

Steve frowns. “You’re remarkably okay with this.”

 

“I owe Phil a lot, and he can’t be more trouble than Clint and Natasha were,” Tony says.

 

“I’ve got Phil squared away in his bedroom, but he’s still unconscious,” Bruce announces, coming back into the room. “I figure we’ve got two choices—we can take him back to the Tower and watch him there, or someone can stay with him here.”

 

Steve shakes his head. “I wouldn’t feel right. I know it’s Phil’s place, but—it would be weird.”

 

“Gotta agree with Spangles here,” Tony says.

 

“Well, Tony was unconscious for a while when he was hit,” Bruce replies. “We can probably manage to get him back to the Tower before he wakes up. I guess we’ll see if that unflappability is innate, or if it’s something he developed over the years.”

 

Tony and Bruce had taken a car to Phil’s place, and it’s still idling out front. “How do you avoid getting a ticket?” Steve asks, carrying the bag that Bruce had brought with him, plus some of the equipment Tony brought. Bruce is carrying Phil’s unconscious form, now wearing a set of pajamas that had belonged to Clint.

 

Clearly, Bruce and Tony had come prepared.

 

“Does Pepper keep everybody’s things?” Steve asks as the car moves smoothly into traffic, Phil slumped on the seat next to him.

 

Bruce smiles fondly. “Well, the bunny and the elephant she bought for Clint and Natasha have disappeared somewhere, but we’ve kept everything else.”

 

“Why?” Steve asks.

 

Bruce hitches a shoulder. “Nostalgia, partially. Plus, given our track records, it seemed prudent.”

 

Steve can’t fault that logic, and they make the rest of the short drive back to the Tower in silence.

 

He watches Phil, who twitches in his sleep but doesn’t wake, trying to come to terms with Phil as he is now.

 

“Weird, isn’t it?” Tony murmurs, offering Steve a sympathetic look.

 

Steve has no idea why Tony is being so nice to him; he’d expected teasing for spending time with Phil, and there had been none.

 

He wonders if Bruce had a word with him before coming over, but he’s not going to ask for fear that saying something would alert Tony to the fact that there’s a reason to give Steve a hard time.

 

When Happy parks in the underground garage, Steve doesn’t hesitate; he just picks Phil up and carries him inside, letting Bruce and Tony worry about the equipment.

 

“You’d better put him on the couch,” Tony says when the elevator doors open. “We’ll be able to keep an eye on him better.”

 

Steve does as Tony suggests, and Pepper soon bustles out with a blanket that Steve remembers using when he was small.  Pepper makes a sound that Steve can’t adequately define, and she tucks the blanket around Phil.

 

“How did it happen?” Pepper asks.

 

“We’re still working on it,” Tony replies. “But we have some leads.”

 

Their luck runs out at that point, Phil stirring fitfully before his eyes open. Steve can see when Phil realizes that he’s not at home, and he pushes free of the blanket, looking around wildly. “Where am I?” he demands, breathing fast and hard, his voice high and reedy. “Who are you? Where are my parents?”

 

“It’s okay,” Bruce says soothingly, his hand out like he’s gentling a wild animal. “We’re friends.”

 

“Where are my mom and dad?” Phil demands, beginning to cry. “I want my mom and dad!”

 

“It’s okay,” Bruce says, reaching for Phil, who pulls back, flailing.

 

No one else had reacted this way—Steve had panicked a bit, but he’d trusted Phil almost immediately. Tony had been so used to his parents leaving him that he’d accepted Bruce and Pepper immediately. Steve has no idea what Clint and Natasha’s childhoods had been like, but from what he’d heard, it had probably been a relief, and the same could be said for Bruce.

 

But Phil—from everything Steve knows, and it’s not much, Phil had a good childhood with parents who loved him, and a sister who cared enough that a package from her wouldn’t surprise him.

 

Tony grabs Steve’s arm. “Where’s your uniform?”

 

“I have one here,” Steve replies, immediately realizing what Tony was getting at. “Do you think it will help?”

 

“Can’t hurt,” Tony mutters.

 

Bruce is shushing Phil gently, and Pepper manages to get close enough to put an arm around Phil’s shoulders. “Your parents are okay,” she says. “They’re fine. They just aren’t here right now.”

 

Steve gets out of there with a sense of relief, scrambling to get into the spare uniform he keeps at the Tower, although not really for this reason. He leaves the cowl off and wishes he had his shield, which he feels would be a little more convincing.

 

Steve has seen a few good Captain America costumes, but no one can ever quite get the shield right.

 

Phil is still crying when Steve gets back out to the living room, Tony appearing uncomfortable and like he’d rather be anywhere else.

 

Bruce is sitting next to Phil, and Pepper is on the other side with her arm still around his shoulders, and Bruce says, “Phil, look. It’s Captain America.”

 

Phil glances up, sniffling. “Captain America is dead.”

 

“I’m really not,” Steve replies, squatting down in front of Phil.

 

“It’s a trick,” Phil protests. “It’s not true. You’re lying! Why are you lying to me?”

 

“Phil, ask me something only Captain America would know,” Steve says.

 

Phil shakes his head. “Not if it’s a trick. Everybody knows Captain America.”

 

Steve suddenly remembers what Phil had told him. “Phil, there was an accident. Someone brought you forward in time forty years, and we’re going to work on getting you back, but you have to let us take care of you until we figure it out.”

 

Phil wipes his nose with the back of his hand. “It’s a trick.”

 

“Tony, show him,” Steve says.

 

Tony calls out, “Jarvis, run footage of the Manhattan situation, with a focus on Steve.”

 

The hologram that shimmers to life is three-dimensional and blue-toned. Steve is used to it now, but Phil’s breath hitches, and he gulps at the sight of Steve with Thor. Steve has no idea how Tony had gotten his hands on the footage, but Phil’s eyes are huge as he watches, glancing from the hologram to Steve and back again.

 

“It’s true?” Phil finally says.

 

“It’s true,” Steve assures him. “They dug me out of the ice a couple of years ago. This is my team, and we take care of things like this. We’re going to get you back where you belong, but you’re going to have to hang with us for a while.”

 

Phil looks around, awe beginning to dawn. “Are you—are you all superheroes?”

 

“Well, I’m not,” Pepper says wryly. “But the rest of them are.”

 

“Oh, I think you have a few superpowers of your own,” Tony replies with a smile.

 

“Do you think you can do that?” Steve asks. “Do you think you can hang out with us while we figure out how to get you back where you belong?”

 

Phil squares his shoulders, his chin tilting up, and Steve realizes that he could probably ask Phil to do just about anything, and Phil would do it. It’s humbling. “I’ll be okay,” Phil promises.

 

“We’re going to take good care of you,” Steve promises, and he means every word.

 

**2.**

 

After Phil grasps that he really is in the company of Captain America, and it’s not a trick, he calms considerably. Actually, he moves from terror to disbelief to incredulous joy as he begins to take in the fact that Captain America is actually willing to be _his friend_.

 

Pepper thinks it might be one of the most adorable sights she’s ever seen—and that’s saying something, given the events of the last year or two, and the number of shrunk-down Avengers she’s seen.

 

Pepper orders pizza, figuring that it’s safe, and everybody likes it, and Steve begins telling Phil about some of his missions during World War II, Phil hanging on every word.

 

She doesn’t eat much herself, since she’s been feeling queasy the last few days. Pepper is pretty sure that Tony’s too caught up in the sight of a very young Phil watching Steve with naked hero worship in his eyes, probably mentally storing up blackmail material for when they get Phil back to normal.

 

Bruce, on the other hand, definitely notices, raising his eyebrows at her in a silent question.

 

Pepper gives a minute shake of her head.

 

Bruce hitches a shoulder and inclines his head, meaning that he’s not going to push now, but he’s going to keep an eye on her, and he will ask questions if he doesn’t see an improvement.

 

And really, Pepper loves Bruce dearly, but there are times when she _really_ wishes he were as unobservant as Tony can often be.

 

Because she has her own suspicions as to what might be wrong, but she’s not planning on sharing until she has confirmation. There’s no sense in alarming anyone before then.

 

Phil nods off over pizza, while Steve is still in the middle of a story, and everyone falls silent until Tony whips out his phone. “Oh, this is _awesome_ ,” he says quietly.

 

“Be nice,” Bruce says mildly.

 

“Are you kidding?” Tony asks in a whisper. “I have pictures of everybody else.”

 

Steve sighs. “I’ll get him to bed. Do you mind if I take the guest room next door?”

 

“I figured you’d want to move in for the duration,” Tony says. “The room is yours. Let us know if you need anything.”

 

Steve nods. “Thanks. Let me know if you want my help notifying Fury.”

 

“Not it,” Tony says immediately. “You do it, Big Guy. Fury likes you.”

 

Bruce rolls his eyes. “He probably just doesn’t want to piss me off.”

 

“Whereas he has no problem pissing me off,” Tony replies, clapping Bruce on the shoulder. “Good luck with that, Brucie.”

 

“Please don’t call me that,” Bruce replies wearily.

 

Pepper gives Tony a _look_. “Behave. Bruce is doing something nice for you.”

 

“Bruce is awesome,” Tony agrees immediately.

 

“Let’s go,” Pepper says, hauling Tony out of the room. “If you’re not going to help, you can come to bed.”

 

Tony allows Pepper to drag him off to their room, and he casually mentions, “I noticed you didn’t eat much tonight. Or anything.”

 

Pepper sighs. “Bruce has been rubbing off on you.”

 

“Hey, I notice stuff,” Tony protests as they enter their bedroom. “I notice a lot of stuff. I just don’t always say anything.”

 

Pepper decides not to respond to that. “I’m fine. I’m sure it’s just a stomach bug or something.”

 

Tony gives her a sharp look that Pepper is fairly sure means the same thing as the look Bruce had given her earlier—he’s not going to push now, but he’s going to be keeping an eye on her. “All right. You’ll let us know if something is wrong, right?”

 

Pepper smiles. “Of course.”

 

Tony nods. “You want to get started without Bruce? Knowing Fury, he’s going to need the distraction when he’s done.”

 

“I think I’d rather watch tonight,” Pepper replies.

 

Tony frowns, cupping her cheek. “You’re really not feeling good, huh? Anything I can do?”

 

Pepper knows that Tony likes to fix things, and so it’s always best to give him something small that he _can_ do, even when the real problem isn’t something he can fix. “Give me a backrub?”

 

“Done,” Tony replies. “Strip.”

 

Tony’s hands are magical, and he’s still working on her shoulders and neck when another set of hands join his, working on her calves and feet.

 

“Oh, god,” Pepper groans appreciatively.

 

Bruce chuckles. “Good?”

 

“What did Fury say?” she asks.

 

“It was definitely not repeatable in mixed company,” Bruce teases, digging his thumbs into her calves. “He seems to content to let us handle things for now. He’s assigning Steve to Phil full-time, and Clint and Natasha have leave coming up, too. Fury’s going to notify them of what’s going on.”

 

“Point being, we’ll have lots of help with Phil,” Tony says. “Which gives us plenty of time to figure out what happened and how to stop it from happening again. Because I don’t know about the two of you, but I’ve had just about enough of this.”

 

He and Bruce start talking about scientific theories, and how de-aging someone might be replicated, or undone, but Pepper doesn’t mind since they keep up with their ministrations, and she drifts off, content.

 

~~~~~

 

When she wakes up the next morning, she’s on one side of the bed, tucked under the covers, Tony and Bruce sprawled out on the other side, touching but not tangled up in each other.

 

It’s a big enough bed that they can each have space if they want it, which is great on mornings like this, when Pepper wants to rise without disturbing anyone.

 

She disappears into the bathroom and locks the door behind her, knowing that the boys will leave her alone if the door is locked.

 

Each of them values their space enough to respect locked doors—unless, of course, Tony has locked himself in his lab for days on end without food or sleep. There’s a “don’t hurt yourself” clause in there somewhere, unspoken but very real.

 

There is also the unspoken understanding that no one bothers Pepper in the bathroom in the morning unless it’s an emergency, _especially_ when she’s locked the door.

 

She’d hidden the pregnancy test under the sink, with her spare tampons, where neither Bruce nor Tony would ever look. Pepper knows that Bruce and Tony would both freak out in their own ways if they found it, and she’s not about to start down that road until she has confirmation.

 

Pepper had already read the instructions several times—online, of course, and she’d cleared her browser history afterward because being with Tony and Bruce _may_ have taught her a little healthy paranoia—but she reads them once more for good measure, and follows the instructions exactly.

 

Setting it aside, Pepper grabs a quick shower, bundling her hair up on her head, since it’s not a day she’s scheduled to wash her hair.

 

And yes, she might have planned it that way.

 

Pepper is strangely reluctant to see the results, not sure what she wants more—a positive or a negative—and she takes her time getting ready, stretching out the anticipation—or the dread. She doesn’t know which it is yet, and she won’t know until she sees the results.

 

When she finally looks, she clutches the edge of the marble counter of the sink for support, suddenly breathless.

 

It’s positive.

 

Pepper lets out a long breath, and then tucks the test back into its wrapper, and hides it in her tampons.

 

She needs to get confirmation, which means she needs to see a doctor, and then she’ll break the news to the guys.

 

Not that she needs confirmation, not after she’d missed her last period, not after the nausea and the fatigue.

 

A gentle knock sounds on the door. “Pepper? You okay?”

 

It’s Bruce’s voice, and Pepper smiles reflexively. “Fine. Just—taking my time this morning.”

 

“Oh, right,” Bruce says hesitantly. “No problem. I’ll start breakfast.”

 

By the time Pepper emerges, she’s fully dressed, makeup done in a way that hides any hint of fatigue or illness, if you could define pregnancy as an illness. Tony’s still in bed, a spare pillow over his head, and she smiles indulgently and lets him sleep.

 

Bruce is making pancakes when she enters the kitchen, and Steve and Phil are sitting at the counter.

 

“How are you boys doing?” Pepper asks, keeping a smile on her face.

 

“Just fine,” Steve says. “What about you, Phil?”

 

Phil offers her a cautious smile. “Bruce said he’d make pancakes in funny shapes.”

 

“I didn’t guarantee artistic ability, though,” Bruce says, glancing over his shoulder. “That’s an important caveat.”

 

Phil leans closer to Steve. “What does that mean?” he asks in a stage whisper.

 

“It means you shouldn’t count on Bruce to make shapes you can recognize,” Steve says with a wink. “But he’ll do his best.”

 

Pepper smiles. “I’m afraid I can’t stick around for breakfast. I’ll see you tonight, Bruce.”

 

Bruce gives her a look that indicates he’s fairly close to paying the doctor card. “Have a good day.”

 

Pepper calls her regular doctor, whom she trusts implicitly, and manages to squeeze in an appointment in the late afternoon. Dr. Dara Bremen has been her doctor for years now, and is one of the few who knows that she’s sexually active with both Tony and another man, although Pepper has left Bruce’s name out of it.

 

“I take it this is unexpected,” Dara says with a sympathetic smile, tucking her blonde hair behind her ears. She’s about Pepper’s age, maybe a little younger, and as open-minded as they come.

 

Pepper shrugs. “Not a _bad_ unexpected, but yes.”

 

“Any idea who the father is?” Dara asks.

 

“It could be either of them,” Pepper admits.

 

“Any health concerns?”

 

Pepper hesitates.

 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Dara says. “Let me guess—Dr. Banner?”

 

Pepper winces. “Is it that obvious?”

 

“Only from the standpoint that I knew you and Tony were involved with another man,” Dara replies with a flash of dimples. “Otherwise, I would have just assumed that he was a close friend to you both.”

 

Pepper sighs. “I haven’t told either of them about my suspicions yet.”

 

“You can get a paternity test done fairly early on in the pregnancy,” Dara replies. “Depending on how far along you are now, we can do it as early as the 10th week.”

 

“I don’t want to know,” Pepper says decisively. “I’ll talk to Tony and Bruce, but I think it would be better for our relationship not to have decisive proof.”

 

Dara nods. “There are legal considerations, of course, but that will be your decision. Talk it over with your partners, and check in with an attorney, and let me know if you change your mind. Now, let’s draw some blood, and we’ll get confirmation. I’ll call you as soon as the results are in.”

 

Pepper winces. “I don’t suppose you can put a rush on it. Bruce is getting suspicious.”

 

“Honestly, you’re late enough that the home pregnancy test is probably fairly accurate, but I can get your results back in a day, maybe two at the most,” Dara replies. “If you want to wait for confirmation, just tell them you may have picked up a stomach bug.”

 

Pepper swallows. “Do you think that’s what it is?”

 

Dara shakes her head. “Honestly? No.”

 

Pepper nods. “Okay. Thanks.”

 

Dara squeezes her hand, warm and dry. “Good luck.”

 

Pepper goes back to the office after that, wanting to get more work done, wondering how the others are doing, and whether Phil is settling in.

 

She’s somehow not surprised when Tony knocks on her door. “Hey.”

 

Really, Pepper wouldn’t be surprised if he and Bruce had flipped a coin as to who would check up on her.

 

“Hello,” she says evenly. “I’m fine.”

 

“You’re feeling better?” Tony asks. “Did you eat today?”

 

“Lunch,” Pepper replies, because she had. “And I have a few more things I should probably get done today.”

 

“Bruce is making dinner,” Tony wheedles. “Come eat with us.”

 

Pepper can’t suppress her smile. “How’s Phil?”

 

“He seems to be adjusting,” Tony replies. “I think Steve spent the day introducing him to Animal Planet.”

 

Pepper laughs. “Did you and Bruce take any time off?”

 

“I think Bruce might have taken the afternoon,” Tony replies. “He had some field testing to do on the games.”

 

“We’re going forward with that, then?” Pepper asks.

 

Tony hitches a shoulder. “It makes Bruce happy, and there’s a huge market for educational games. So far, they’ve been a big hit. I thought we’d roll out focus groups next year.”

 

Pepper thinks of the crisp autumn weather and says, “That’s not all that far away.”

 

“No, it’s not,” Tony agrees. He just watches her for a moment. “Is there anything you want to tell me? I tried to call earlier, but your assistant just said you were out.”

 

She’s grateful that Tony isn’t trying to pretend he doesn’t know she’d left the office, but she hesitates. “I went to the doctor today,” she admits. “I’ve been feeling a little rundown.”

 

“And?” he prompts.

 

“She took some blood and said that things look fine otherwise,” Pepper replies, which is the truth. “I should have the results in another day or two.”

 

“You’ll let me know,” Tony presses, worry clear in his eyes.

 

“As soon as I know, you will, too,” Pepper promises. “You and Bruce will be my first call.”

 

Tony nods, as though it’s settled. “Good. Then, since you are feeling rundown, I think this can all wait until tomorrow, don’t you?”

 

It probably can, although Pepper hates to leave tasks undone, but she’s painted herself into this corner. Even if she’d been completely honest and told Tony she might be pregnant, she suspects she’d have to put up with a certain amount of attempted coddling.

 

“All right,” Pepper agrees, and has to admit that she appreciates the shortness of the commute, riding the elevator up to the Penthouse, stepping out to the unmistakable smell of stewed meat and beans, the recipe a holdover from Bruce’s time in Brazil.

 

“Oh, that does smell good,” she says, grateful that the nausea has subsided for now.

 

Bruce grins over his shoulder. “You’re hungry?”

 

“Starving,” Pepper replies, spotting Phil playing one of Bruce’s games, now adopted for a computer. “Phil, how are you?”

 

“I’m good, Miss Potts!” he calls, then lets out a gleeful yell as he completes a level. “Got it!”

 

“Well done,” Steve congratulates him, sitting on the couch just behind Phil, who’s cross-legged on the floor, displaying the easy flexibility of a child.

 

At Steve’s praise, Phil preens a bit, and then says, “Miss Potts, do you want to play?”

 

“I think you can call me Pepper,” she insists.

 

Phil looks momentarily uncertain. “Really?”

 

“Definitely,” she replies, and sits down next to Steve, sinking down into the couch cushions, her fatigue pulling at her.

 

Phil nods uncertainly. “Okay.”

 

Pepper has already gotten the impression that Phil had grown up in a normal, happy household, both from his response to this most recent turn of events, and from what he’d told her about his background in more unguarded moments. She suspects his parents had been loving, if strict, and insistent upon a certain amount of courtesy and formality.

 

The controlled chaos of the Tower is probably a change for him.

 

“Better put it away,” Bruce calls. “Dinner should be ready in five.”

 

Phil sighs. “Okay. I really like the game, Bruce.”

 

Pepper can hear the pleasure in Bruce’s voice when he replies, “I’m glad you did. You can tell me all about it over dinner.”

 

And for a brief moment, Pepper can see what her future might look like, and she knows that whatever happens, it’s going to be good.

 

**3.**

 

Clint wraps up his mission as quickly as he can after he gets the call from Fury. If Phil were his usual self, he’d probably be a little pissed off at just _how_ fast Clint finishes up, considering that he takes some stupid chances.

 

Not that he doesn’t trust Steve and Bruce to look after Phil, because he does. They had both been great with everybody else who had been turned into a child. And while he hadn’t exactly talked it over with Natasha, Phil had been a better father than Clint’s had ever been, and maybe a better one than Natasha could remember.

 

But the thing is, Clint has no idea what Phil will be like. He’s always maintained his reputation as completely unflappable, with a bland personality, someone who lives for the job.

 

Clint knows better, having seen Phil’s collection of Captain America memorabilia, but Clint and Natasha probably know Phil better than just about anybody other than Fury, and Clint still has no idea what Phil was when he was a kid.

 

And if Fury is giving them the time off, Clint wants to get back to New York in time to experience Phil in all his de-aged glory—not to mention gather blackmail material.

 

Plus, Fury’s sending Natasha back, too, which means getting at least a few days to spend with her, which is more than they’ve had since getting hit by that insane asshole’s spell months before.

 

Clint takes a taxi straight from JFK to the Tower, not bothering to stop at his apartment first.

 

The receptionist—Marie, if Clint remembers correctly—obviously recognizes him. “Agent Barton! It’s good to see you again. You can go right on up.”

 

“Thanks,” Clint replies, and settles his duffel bag a little more securely on his shoulder.

 

“Welcome home, Agent Barton,” Jarvis says as soon as Clint enters the elevator.

 

Clint doesn’t bother correcting Jarvis. The Tower might not be _his_ home, but it still feels familiar and safe, and it’s filled with his favorite people. “Thanks, Jarvis. How is Phil?”

 

“Master Phil is quite well,” Jarvis replies. “He and Captain Rogers are getting long admirably.”

 

Clint laughs. “Is that right? Phil must be in seventh heaven.”

 

“Indeed,” Jarvis replies, sounding almost amused, and Clint wonders once again at how much personality Tony had imbued in his AI.

 

When the elevator opens, Steve is sitting at the counter, apparently working on a crossword. Clint looks around, wondering where Phil is.

 

“Hey, Clint,” Steve says warmly when he catches sight of him. “It’s good to see you.”

 

Clint drops his bag just inside the door and looks around. “Where’s Phil?”

 

“Just stepped out for a moment,” Steve replies, and Clint knows that’s code for Phil being in the bathroom.

 

“How is he?” Clint asks.

 

Steve shrugs. “I’m not sure.”

 

“You’re not sure?”

 

“He misses his parents,” Steve replies with a shrug. “There’s not a lot I can do about that.”

 

“So, what? He isn’t completely enamored of Captain America?” Clint teases.

 

Steve looks a little abashed. “Well, maybe a little.”

 

Clint snorts.

 

“Steve? I’m kind of hungry,” Phil says as he meanders out from the direction of the bathroom.

 

“Let’s see what we can find,” Steve says. “Phil, this is my friend, Clint. Clint, Phil.”

 

“Hi,” Phil replies with a little wave, looking a little shy, a little uncertain.

 

“Hi there,” Clint replies, reining in his curiosity. “Maybe we should order something in. I haven’t eaten since I left Iraq.”

 

Steve frowns. “It’s close to dinnertime. Let me see if Bruce or Tony want anything. There’s a diner close by if Phil’s okay with burgers.”

 

Phil brightens. “Do they have cheeseburgers?”

 

“And fries, and onion rings, and shakes,” Steve confirms with a smile. “Jarvis?”

 

There’s a pause, and Jarvis says, “Mr. Stark and Dr. Banner said that they are in the middle of something, and they’ll get dinner when they’re at a stopping point.”

 

“More for the rest of us,” Steve says. “Come on, guys.”

 

The diner is a real old-school place with waitresses in short dresses and white aprons, and a menu straight out of the fifties.

 

Phil studies the menu with the same attention he’d given to ops in the past, clearly weighing his options.

 

“I thought you wanted a cheeseburger,” Clint teases.

 

Phil frowns. “I like cheeseburgers, but there’s a lot of stuff on the menu that sounds good.”

 

“He’s pulling your leg,” Steve replies. “We _can_ come back here if you want to try more stuff.”

 

“Take your time,” Clint advises, realizing that the grown-up Phil might know when Clint’s giving him a hard time, but _this_ Phil doesn’t know him at all. “We’re not in a rush.”

 

Phil goes back to studying the menu, and Clint exchanges a grin with Steve.

 

When the waitress comes around for their drink orders, Phil orders a vanilla milkshake, and Clint hides his grin. Clint orders strawberry, and Steve goes for banana.

 

“Really?” Clint asks when the waitress leaves. “Banana?”

 

Steve shrugs. “What? I like banana shakes, and this is one of the only places that has them.”

 

Phil looks abashed. “I don’t really like bananas.”

 

“Not everybody does,” Steve says easily, which is one of the reasons that Clint really likes him. He has a way of putting everybody at ease. “Clint, how do you feel about bananas?”

 

“Don’t eat ‘em unless I have to,” Clint replies, not adding that he really doesn’t eat fruit all that often. He subsists on take-out and eggs and toast. “They’re mushy.”

 

When the waitress comes back with their shakes, they all order a cheeseburger and fries, although Clint asks for bacon on his.

 

“How are things?” Clint asks as they’re waiting for their orders.

 

Phil shrugs. “Okay.”

 

“Just okay?” Clint asks, poking Phil’s leg under the table. “Because the same thing happened to me, and I remember Steve and Bruce being pretty great.”

 

Phil startles and stares at Clint. “What?”

 

“Weird dude sent me through time,” Clint replies, Fury having given him the party line. “He seems to have a thing for that. But Steve and Bruce were really great. So were Pepper, and Thor, and Jane. Even Tony was really nice.”

 

Phil frowns. “I don’t know all of them.”

 

“You’ll meet them,” Clint assures him. “If you’re around long enough. Just wait until Natasha comes. We’ll take you out on the town.”

 

Phil glances at Steve uncertainly. “I don’t know.”

 

“Think about it like a vacation,” Steve urges. “It’s just like summer camp, and in a little while, you’ll be back where you belong and this will just be a memory.”

 

Phil perks up at that. “I’m supposed to go to a sleep-away camp next summer.”

 

“Well, there you go,” Clint replies. “This is practice. You’ll be an old hand when it comes time, right?”

 

And Phil demonstrates his ability to roll with the punches from an early age by tilting up his chin and giving a determined nod. “Right.”

 

Truthfully, Clint kind of loves this kid already.

 

**4.**

 

Bruce feels Tony’s lips on the back of his neck, and he smiles, although he tries to hide it. “We have work to do.”

 

“We’ve _been_ working,” Tony replies. “I think we’re due a break.”

 

“You mean another break,” Bruce says, shaking his head.

 

Tony licks a stripe up the side of his neck. “And we’ve been working hard the rest of the day, you know.”

 

Bruce hums under his breath, not disagreeing. Other than a brief stop for lunch and mutual orgasms, they’ve been trying to solve the problem of what looks like magic, and has to be some kind of science they don’t yet understand. “Pepper will be home soon.”

 

“All the more reason to take a break now,” Tony wheedles. “Pepper can join us when she gets home.”

 

The thought of Pepper has Bruce recalling his worry, and he says, “Something’s up with her.”

 

“I know,” Tony replies, his voice uncharacteristically serious. He moves away from Bruce, leaning against the workbench, facing Bruce. “What do you think it is?”

 

Bruce shrugs. “I don’t know.”

 

He has his suspicions, but he doesn’t want to give voice to them, too afraid of where they’ll lead.

 

“I’m sure it’s fine,” Tony says. “And if it’s not, we’ll fix it so it is.”

 

Bruce still feels like an interloper sometimes, like he’s trespassing and they’ll eventually figure that out and cut him loose. He can’t forget that Tony and Pepper were together first, and they invited him in; they don’t have to keep him.

 

“Hey,” Tony says, his gaze intense, like he can see right into Bruce’s head, see his heavy thoughts. “Whatever you’re thinking, don’t.”

 

Bruce forces a smile. “What am I thinking?”

 

“You’ve got the same look on your face as when—” Tony stops. “Never mind. Just, whatever it is, don’t. Whatever’s going on, we’re all in this together, right?”

 

Bruce manages a real smile. “Right.”

 

Tony hooks an arm over his shoulders. “Come on. We need a break. Let’s go see how Steve and Phil are doing.”

 

Bruce knows that’s just Tony’s way of distracting him, and it strikes him as the same sort of overture Tony had made after ignoring him for weeks when Steve had been small.

 

Which just makes Bruce feel worse, because there’s no reason for Tony to cater to him; he’s fine. He’s _more_ than fine. He’s _happy_.

 

Tony keeps an arm around Bruce’s shoulders, and when they arrive in the Penthouse, it’s empty.

 

“Jarvis, where is everybody?” Tony asks.

 

“I believe they went to get something to eat, sir,” Jarvis replies. “I didn’t think you wished to be disturbed.”

 

Tony smirks. “We didn’t, as a matter of fact. I don’t suppose you know what Pepper wants for dinner tonight.”

 

“I can ask,” Jarvis offers.

 

Bruce clears his throat. “Why don’t I call her?”

 

“Why don’t you?” Tony asks, and flicks open a button on Bruce’s shirt.

 

“You could stop distracting me,” Bruce says, pulling out his phone.

 

Tony laughs and nips at his collarbone. “I could, yes, but I won’t.”

 

Bruce has plenty of experience controlling himself, which is a good thing, because he needs every ounce of self-control he has to keep his voice even when Pepper answers. “We were wondering if you wanted anything in particular for dinner.”

 

She laughs. “Is Tony trying to distract you?”

 

“Trying but failing,” Bruce says, although that’s a lie.

 

He can hear the smile in her voice. “Uh huh. I’ll be home in a couple of hours. Something light would be good.”

 

“Are you still not feeling well?” Bruce asks.

 

“My stomach is still a little upset,” Pepper admits. “I’ll be fine.”

 

Bruce doesn’t ask, because this probably isn’t the time for it—over the phone, and with Tony not a part of the conversation. “See you in a couple of hours.”

 

“Oh, good, we have time,” Tony says. “Bedroom.”

 

“Steve and Phil could show up any time,” Bruce protests, although he allows Tony to nudge him in that direction.

 

“That’s why there’s a lock on the door,” Tony replies. “Jarvis, if anyone asks, we’re napping.”

 

“Of course, sir,” Jarvis says, and Bruce swears that Jarvis knows _exactly_ what they’re getting up to.

 

Then again, it’s not a total lie, because they _do_ nap, stretched out next to each other on the huge, custom-made bed Tony had bought after the three of them had started sharing a bed more often than they didn’t.

 

All three of them occasionally take the guest room when they’re up late, or when they just need some space. Most of the time, though, they’re happy to sleep in the same bed, and Bruce has to admit that he likes it when he can wake up with both of them, because it reminds him that he’s not dreaming.

 

Today, he wakes from his nap to find Tony pressed up against his back, an arm curled tightly over Bruce’s chest.

 

Bruce smiles and extricates himself from Tony’s grasp, hearing Tony grumble sleepily. “Don’t wanna get up.”

 

“Then don’t,” Bruce says fondly. “I’m going to call for food, okay? Pepper should be here soon.”

 

“We can eat dinner in bed,” Tony says, grabbing Bruce’s pillow and hugging it to his chest.

 

Bruce runs a hand over Tony’s hair. “Maybe. We’ll see what Pepper says.”

 

He uses the bathroom and washes his face and hands, and then puts in their order at their favorite Chinese restaurant—wonton soup for Pepper, as well as chicken with snow peas in a light sauce. He and Tony have favorite dishes, and Bruce orders those, as well as egg rolls and crab Rangoon.

 

He’s still waiting for the food to arrive when Steve and Phil turn up again with Clint in tow. Bruce probably should have known Clint would be there, since his duffel bag is next to the door.

 

Still, he feels a little out of sorts and not quite up to dealing with company, no matter how much he likes Steve and Clint—and Phil.

 

Bruce knows how to put a good face on things, though, and he says, “Clint, good to see you. How are things?”

 

Clint shrugs. “Things are good. I’m just enjoying the unexpected vacation. How about you?”

 

“Keeping busy,” Bruce replies, and smiles at Phil. “Did you guys eat?”

 

Phil nods. “Cap—Steve let me share his onion rings!”

 

Bruce suspects that it will be awhile before the novelty of hanging out with Captain America wears off for Phil. “Cap is a generous guy,” Bruce agrees. “You want to try out another puzzle?”

 

“I don’t know,” Clint says, glancing over at Steve. “I thought we might find an arcade. What do you say, Phil? It’s not too late, is it?”

 

Phil appears momentarily torn. “Usually, I have to be in bed by 8.”

 

“I think we can probably make an exception tonight,” Steve says. “Until we can get you back to normal, school’s out, so there’s no harm staying up late.”

 

Bruce winces. “I don’t want to chase you out.”

 

“Chase us out?” Clint asks, although Bruce suspects Clint knows he’s not feeling up for company; Clint sees more than most people give him credit for. “No way, doc. But I’m not ready to stay in, and I’m guessing you’re going to grab dinner with Tony and Pepper.”

 

Bruce smiles. “We are, but I wouldn’t—”

 

“Okay, arcade time for us, then!” Clint says, rubbing his hands together. “I am the master of pinball.”

 

“And I’ve got a few trading cards Phil might like to see,” Steve adds. “And maybe a few other mementos.”

 

Bruce heaves a sigh of relief. He’s feeling anxious and on-edge, and he doesn’t think he’s up for pretending otherwise.

 

The food arrives just before Pepper does, and Bruce says, “Jarvis, let Tony know the food is here, please.”

 

“No need,” Tony says, coming out to the living area as Pepper steps out of the elevator. “I’m up. Hey, Pep. Feeling any better?”

 

“Moderately,” Pepper replies, stepping out of her heels. “Did you two have a productive day?”

 

Bruce begins to set out plates. “Well, we’re no closer to figuring out what caused Phil to become a child, how to reverse it, or even how to prevent it. So, no.”

 

“Don’t be such a pessimist, Big Guy,” Tony says, poking Bruce in the side. “We’ve figured out at least six things that it _isn’t_. You know what Thomas Edison says.”

 

“I’m more of a Tesla guy,” Bruce replies with a smile.

 

Tony smirks. “Oh, right. You’re the tortured genius.”

 

Bruce winces, thinking that maybe that comparison hits a little too close to home, given how Tesla had ended his life.

 

“Okay, well, that’s not how I meant for that to come out. Look, food!” Tony says, in a blatant redirection of the conversation.

 

Honestly, Bruce doesn’t mind the distraction.

 

But then Pepper picks at her food again and doesn’t really eat, and Bruce hunches his shoulders, feeling more and more certain that his hunch is right.

 

“You sure there isn’t anything wrong?” Tony asks. “You’ve barely eaten anything, Pepper.”

 

Pepper pushes her plate away. “Actually, there’s something I need to tell you.”

 

Bruce pushes his own plate away, his appetite fleeing.

 

“Okay,” Tony says slowly. “You know, you’re both starting to freak me out just a little bit.”

 

Pepper clears her throat. “Bruce. It’s nothing bad.”

 

Bruce consciously lets go of the counter, resting his palms on his knees. “Sorry.”

 

Pepper sighs audibly. “This isn’t going quite like I’d hoped. I’m pregnant.”

 

Bruce just nods, having suspected as much.

 

Tony, on the other hand, asks, “How?”

 

Bruce manages to find his sense of humor somehow. “Well, Tony, when a man and a woman love each other very much—”

 

“Shut up,” Tony says, although not without a hint of humor. “But, no, seriously, we’ve been careful.”

 

“Not quite as careful as we could have been,” Pepper replies wryly. “Obviously.”

 

Bruce decides to cut to the chase. “I don’t—”

 

“Do _not_ finish that sentence,” Pepper orders fiercely. “I know you want children, so if you’re thinking that we’re going to cut you out because I’m pregnant, just stop it right now. If you don’t want a child with us, now would be the time to speak.”

 

Bruce shuts his mouth with an audible click. Since that had been what he was thinking, and he’d been bracing himself for it, he’s not quite sure what to say.

 

“Do you know which one of us is the father?” Tony asks mildly, glancing over at Bruce, his expression unreadable.

 

Pepper shakes her head. “No. It could be either one of you, and I don’t want to know.”

 

“I don’t care,” Tony says quietly. “Either way, the kid’s still going to be mine.”

 

Bruce looks from Tony to Pepper and back again. “What?”

 

“It’s up to Pepper, of course, but I have no problem claiming paternity and making him—or her—my heir,” Tony replies easily. He pauses. “Actually, I’m kind of hoping for a girl. What do you think, Bruce?”

 

Bruce is still floundering. “I—I don’t care as long as it’s healthy. But what if it’s mine?”

 

“You’re forgetting how much I liked mini-you,” Tony says fondly. “In fact, that might be better. A mini-you. I like that idea.”

 

Pepper reaches across the table to grab Bruce’s hand. “Are you worried about passing on your problem?”

 

It’s kind of Pepper to put it that way when the Other Guy is actually a very _big_ problem. “No, I don’t think that’s possible,” Bruce admits. “I wouldn’t have—” He stops. “I would have been _a lot_ more careful if I thought it was possible.”

 

Actually, Bruce had done a lot of research on what effect his bodily fluids would have on other people. His blood could kill someone, but semen didn’t pose a danger. He’d been really careful with both Tony and Pepper until he’d been certain of that, and then—he hadn’t.

 

They’re in an exclusive relationship between the three of them that he’d believed was as permanent as it got, and so he had stopped keeping his distance.

 

He’d stopped being entirely careful. Look where that’s got him.

 

“Okay, so, unless Bruce has an objection, we continue on as we’ve been going, and I acknowledge paternity so the kid gets everything due him or her as my heir,” Tony says. “I’ll have to check with the lawyers, but we could probably even leave the name blank on the birth certificate if that makes you feel better, Bruce.”

 

Bruce shakes his head. “I don’t care. I mean, it’s my kid, too, but—I just thought….”

 

“We’re better together,” Tony says. “And I don’t say that lightly. Pepper and I were really good with just the two of us, but we’re better with you in the mix, too.”

 

“Tony’s right,” Pepper adds. “And I don’t say _that_ lightly.”

 

Bruce laughs, squeezing her hand tightly. Tony reaches over and squeezes the back of Bruce’s neck. “What? You thought we’d ditch you when we found out that Pepper was pregnant? Seriously?”

 

“Um, no?” Bruce offers.

 

“Are you two okay with this?” Pepper asks, and Bruce abruptly remembers that it’s not just about him.

 

And yes, he can be a selfish asshole sometimes.

 

“Yes,” Bruce says immediately. “If you want me here, I’m here.”

 

“Always,” Pepper promises. “Tony?”

 

“I said so, didn’t I?” Tony asks. “I don’t give a rat’s ass who contributed the DNA, it’s _our_ kid. Emphasis on _our_ , as in the three of us. We’ll figure out the logistics later.”

 

Bruce’s shoulders slump in relief, and Pepper stands up, keeping hold of his hand. “Come on. I think we should go to bed.”

 

“We should put the food away,” Bruce protests.

 

“I’ll take care of it and join you in a few minutes,” Tony says. “One time offer, and don’t get used to it, okay?”

 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Pepper replies and hauls Bruce off.

 

“How far along are you?” Bruce asks when they’re in their bedroom.

 

Pepper hesitates. “Ten weeks, maybe twelve. Somewhere in that range.”

 

Bruce remembers a broken condom and an evening where Tony had been too distracted to join them. “It could be mine.”

 

“It might be,” Pepper agrees. “Does it matter?”

 

Bruce remembers what Tony had said, his comment about wanting a mini-Bruce, and he smiles. “No, I guess it really doesn’t.”

 

They’re still making out when Tony enters, and Bruce glances over at him. “Hey.”

 

“Hey, my two favorite people,” Tony replies. “And my mini-person.” He kisses Pepper, and then Bruce in turn. “Okay, the three of us are the three of us, and soon will be the four of us. We’re all good with that, yes?”

 

Pepper smiles. “I’m good with it.”

 

“Bruce?” Tony prompts.

 

“Yeah,” Bruce says, feeling the goofy grin break out on his face. “Yeah, we’re good. We’re all good.” He feels the joy bubbling up in his chest. “You’re really pregnant?”

 

“I really am,” Pepper confirms. “You guys are going to make great fathers.”

 

Tony gives him a look. “You’re sure of that?”

 

And Bruce knows Tony is asking for himself, and not because he’s worried about Bruce.

 

“I’ve seen it, and I’m sure,” Pepper replies. “Now, come to bed.”

 

And they both go, because what else can they do?

 

But Bruce feels good, like everything he’s wanted is within his grasp.

 

**5.**

 

Natasha comes back from her mission in Afghanistan tired and dusty, and heads straight for her apartment. She wants a shower and a change of clothing before she sees Clint, or Phil, or any of the others.

 

From what Fury had said, she’s not needed here, strictly speaking. There are plenty of people who could look after Phil, but Natasha isn’t going to complain. It means time spent with Clint—something she hasn’t had much of since they’d been small—and time spent with the team, who have become a family.

 

Besides, Natasha owes Phil, and she doesn’t mind helping out. Also, she’s curious about what Phil is like as a child.

 

Natasha likes having blackmail material; she’s found a use for it more than once.

 

Once she’s changed into something comfortable, Natasha calls Clint. “Where are you?”

 

“Just got home,” he admits. “I spent yesterday afternoon and evening hanging out with Steve and Phil, and I think Bruce is taking point today.”

 

“How is Coulson?” Natasha asks.

 

Clint laughs. “He still thinks Steve is awesome, for the record.”

 

Natasha grins. “Nice to know that hasn’t changed.”

 

“The novelty might wear off, and Phil will stop talking about how awesome Steve is, but I don’t think it’s going to be in my lifetime,” Clint replies. “You in town now?”

 

“I am,” Natasha agrees. “Do you want me to come over?”

 

“If you’re up for it,” Clint replies.

 

“Give me thirty minutes,” Natasha says.

 

Clint’s apartment is in a rundown building that Clint insists is comfortable and lived-in, and Natasha doesn’t disagree. It feels like Clint, which is probably why she likes it so much.

 

Clint is barefoot, and wearing jeans and a t-shirt, when he opens the door, and she can smell something in the oven. “Did you cook?” she asks, amused.

 

Clint shrugs. “I put a lasagna in the oven. You hungry?”

 

“Not for lasagna,” Natasha replies.

 

He tangles his fingers in her hair and laughs. “Yeah, okay.”

 

The evening passes pleasantly enough, and they wind up watching the terrible reality TV that seems to be all Clint has stored on his DVR.

 

Natasha wonders if she’ll ever get tired of being with Clint, and thinks it unlikely; they don’t get this opportunity often enough for it to become routine.

 

They both sleep in, an unusual luxury, and take the subway to the Tower. “How are we doing this?” Natasha asks.

 

Clint doesn’t bother asking what she means. “Considering that Fury basically gave you, me, and Steve a vacation so we can look after Phil, I’m guessing we’ll split it up between us. Although, to be honest, Steve seems a little territorial.”

 

Natasha frowns. “What about Tony and Bruce?”

 

“They’re trying to figure out what caused it, and how to keep it from happening again,” Clint replies. “And there’s something else going on.”

 

“What else?” Natasha asks suspiciously. The last time “something else” had been going on, Bruce, Tony, and Pepper had been working out their relationship.

 

Clint shrugs. “I don’t know. Bruce was tense the other day, though, and I got the sense Pepper hasn’t been feeling well.”

 

Natasha privately resolves to check in with Pepper at some point in the near future. “Do you think we need to worry about it?”

 

“No, I figure we’ll look after Phil, and let the scientists sort themselves out,” Clint replies. “They’ve done okay with that so far.”

 

As a plan, it isn’t bad, and Natasha has to admit that she’s a little tired of dealing with magic tricks.

 

She might appreciate the fact that it brings the team together, and the time spent with them, but she’s about done with child-sized Avengers.

 

The receptionist out front waves at them. “Agent Barton, Agent Romanoff, just head right on up,” she says cheerfully.

 

Natasha has gotten used to being known around the Tower. One thing she can say for Tony is that he hires people who are discreet and who can be trusted with secret—or not so secret—identities.

 

Bruce is in the kitchen on a sandwich assembly line with Steve, working in companionable silence while Tony and a young boy work on a holographic puzzle.

 

“Hey, Phil,” Clint calls. “I want you to meet my friend, Natasha. Tasha, this is Phil.”

 

Phil waves without looking away from his puzzle. “Just a second.”

 

Natasha covers her mouth, hiding her grin. He sounds very much like the Phil she knows in that moment, too caught up in a task to look away.

 

“Phil,” Steve says, mild reproof in his voice.

 

“Pause,” Tony says. “You’d better say hello before Steve accuses me of having bad manners.”

 

Phil winces. “Sorry. It’s nice to meet you, ma’am.”

 

“Call me Natasha,” she replies. “Otherwise, you’ll make me feel old.”

 

Phil frowns. “You’re not old.”

 

“My point exactly,” Natasha agrees.

 

“You guys hungry?” Steve asks. “We can make another couple of sandwiches.”

 

“I could eat,” Clint agrees cheerfully.

 

Natasha rolls her eyes. “You can always eat.”

 

“Never know when you’re going to get a meal,” Clint replies. “Might as well take advantage, especially when someone else is cooking. Phil, why don’t you show me what you were working on?”

 

“Clint, you can take my place,” Tony says. “See what you can make of it. Ten bucks Phil beats the pants off you.”

 

Clint snorts. “I’m not going to take that bet. Phil’s way smarter than I am.”

 

Phil is clearly torn between defending Clint’s somewhat dubious honor and engaging in some trash talking and claims of his imminent victory. “I’m not that good yet,” Phil offers, apparently landing somewhere in between, which is fairly typical. “So you might win.”

 

“Fine, Bruce, Steve? You willing to take that bet?” Tony challenges.

 

“I’m betting on Phil,” Steve says, and Phil’s chest puffs out.

 

Bruce huffs a laugh. “I guess I’ll put my money on Clint, but how about we bet dinner tonight instead?”

 

“All right,” Tony says. “If Clint wins, Steve and I will buy. If Phil does, Bruce buys.”

 

“Sounds fair,” Bruce replies. “But make it quick. The sandwiches are almost done.”

 

“I thought you’d be hard at work,” Natasha says to Bruce.

 

Bruce shakes his head. “We got a late start this morning and haven’t had breakfast yet. Plus, Jane should be back today, and we want to pick her brain.”

 

Natasha gives him a curious look. “Where has Jane been?”

 

“On Asgard with Thor,” Bruce replies. “Partially for a vacation, and partially to get a better idea of what makes Asgardian technology tick. We’re hoping she’ll have some ideas for us.”

 

“You haven’t had much luck then,” Natasha says.

 

Bruce hitches a shoulder. “Not really. It’s all there. It’s like when you’re trying to think of a word, and it’s right on the tip of your tongue, you know? We have all the information, and we should be able to come up with the answer, but we can’t quite.”

 

“I’m sure you will,” Natasha replies, and remembers Bruce’s patience and kindness.

 

These days, she’s not afraid or Bruce or the Hulk, because she knows how Bruce feels about her and the rest of the team, and she thinks they’re all safe enough.

 

Or as safe as they can be. None of them are ever entirely safe.

 

Phil lets out a whoop of joy. “Got it!”

 

Clint groans theatrically. “I guess that’s payback for my victory at pinball,” he says good-naturedly. “Sorry, doc. Looks like dinner is on you and me.”

 

“I never said I’d buy,” Bruce replies with a smirk. “But you can help me cook.”

 

Natasha grins and sees the expression reflected on Steve and Tony’s faces. “Great,” Tony says rubbing his hands. “Bruce’s cooking is better than takeout. Tell me you’re making curry.”

 

“What’s that?” Phil asks, climbing up on a stool and accepting a plate with a sandwich and a pickle.

 

“What’s what?” Steve asks.

 

“Curry,” Phil replies. “What’s that?”

 

“It’s great,” Tony says. “You’ll see. You ever had Chinese?” When Phil nods, he adds, “It’s like that, only from India.”

 

“Do you know where that is?” Bruce asks kindly.

 

When Phil shakes his head, Tony says, “Jarvis, pull up a map. Time for a geography lesson.”

 

With a holographic globe floating in the living room, with India highlighted in red, Bruce begins talking about his time there, and the different regions. Clint adds his own observations, having been there once or twice, and Natasha does the same. Tony talks about Mumbai and New Delhi, and Phil hangs on their every word, soaking it all in.

 

Natasha finishes her sandwich and listens as the guys try to top each others’ worst travel stories, and she can’t help but enjoy it.

 

She really is incredibly fond of these people.

 

The elevator slides open, and Jane and Thor step out. “Hi, guys!” Jane calls cheerfully. “Did you miss us?”

 

“What? You were gone?” Tony teases, but he gives her a hug and shakes Thor’s hand.

 

There’s a flurry of warm greetings and whispered explanations, and then Jane, Bruce and Tony head for the labs, leaving the four of them with Phil.

 

“What do you want to do?” Steve asks him.

 

Phil appears a little overwhelmed. “I don’t know. Whatever you want to do is okay, Cap.”

 

And Natasha thinks that might be the most adorable thing she’s ever heard. She plans on giving Phil plenty of grief for it when he’s back to himself.

 

“I say laser tag,” Clint says. “Natasha and me against the three of you.”

 

Steve grins. “We’ll wipe the floor with you.”

 

“What’s laser tag?” Phil asks hesitantly.

 

“Just you wait and see,” Clint replies. “It’s fun.”

 

“We’ll have a good time,” Steve promises him.

 

Natasha knows enough about her teammates to know that most of them had as little of a childhood as she did—except possibly Thor—and in a lot of ways, this gives them all the opportunity to enjoy things they hadn’t back then.

 

Or that they couldn’t.

 

She doesn’t mind. In fact, she kind of likes it.

 

**6.**

 

“I’m gone one month, and look at all the trouble you get into,” Jane complains, but she does so with a smile on her face.

 

“It’s good to have you back,” Bruce says. “And not just because you’ve spent the last months learning the secrets of Asgardian magic.”

 

Tony glares at him. “It’s not magic, it’s science. We just haven’t figured it out yet.”

 

“And while I think I can help out with that, it’s still just a little beyond my ken,” Jane admits. “They’re just so far advanced, it’s hard to explain how it works, but let’s see what we’ve got.”

 

The technology on Asgard had been beyond anything she could even comprehend, and there’s an element that doesn’t quite make sense, even after a month surrounded by it.

 

“You know, I hate to say it, but it seems like the missing element is belief,” Jane says after she reviews the work they’d put in over the last few days—which includes everything they’d discovered when Steve, and then Clint and Natasha, had been shrunk down.

 

“Belief?” Tony asks skeptically.

 

Jane shrugs apologetically. “Sorry, but there it is.”

 

“So, what, we just believe it’s going to work, and it does?” Bruce asks, sounding just as incredulous.

 

“I don’t have any other explanation,” Jane admits. “I wish I did. It’s definitely not magic, but the laws of physics work slightly differently on Asgard, and to translate that to Earth requires—belief.”

 

“Shit,” Tony mutters. “If that’s what’s needed, I’m not sure it’s going to happen.”

 

“It’s going to wear off,” Bruce protests. “It’s not the end of the world if we can’t figure it out.”

 

“But that means any bad guy who has the know-how and intent could take us out of commission,” Tony protests.

 

“What about the guy who caused this in the first place?” Jane asks. “Can’t we ask him?”

 

“Fury has him on lockdown,” Bruce replies.

 

Tony’s eyes narrow. “Maybe, but has Natasha interrogated him yet? Or better yet, let’s stick him in a room with the Hulk. Bet he’ll talk then.”

 

Bruce grimaces. “Let’s not and say we did.”

 

“I still say we ask Fury to let Natasha interrogate him,” Tony grumbles. “And then we figure out a way to stop it from happening again, even if we can’t find a way to reverse it. Phil will forgive us—eventually.”

 

Bruce frowns. “If belief is the secret ingredient, maybe the exact opposite would protect someone.”

 

“What? Disbelief?” Tony asks. “I think we’ve got that covered.”

 

“But we’ve always assumed it’s science we don’t understand,” Bruce replies. “What if we just—don’t believe?”

 

“Or if we imbue something else with that sort of feeling,” Jane says, picking up on Bruce’s train of thought. “This guy obviously sent something to Phil that caused the spell to trigger. Maybe we could—I don’t know, create a shield that only works when hit with this sort of science.”

 

Tony frowns. “An anti-Asgardian magic sort of shield.”

 

“Maybe,” Jane replies. “It’s the best solution I’ve got right now.”

 

“Well, it’s worth a shot,” Bruce says. “Because we’re coming up empty.”

 

“Let’s give it a try,” Tony agrees. “The worst thing that could happen is we fail, and then we’re right back where we started.”

 

Bruce winces. “I don’t know about you, but I’d rather not have to worry about getting turned into a kid again.”

 

Tony gives him a sly look. “Especially now, huh?”

 

Jane frowns. “Wait, what?”

 

“Nothing,” Bruce says, glaring at Tony.

 

Tony shrugs, and Jane looks between them suspiciously, and then decides she’ll get it out of one of them later.

 

They work hard for the next few hours, and then Thor comes and finds them, sneaking up on Jane from behind and putting his arms around her from behind. “We’re going out to dinner, and the three of you are coming with us.”

 

“Oh, are we?” Jane asks, although she’s hungry enough to take a break.

 

“Phil has never had shwarma,” Thor explains. “And we thought we’d take him.”

 

Bruce hesitates. “I don’t know…”

 

“Pepper said she’s going,” Thor replies.

 

The look that Tony and Bruce exchange makes Jane more than a little curious, especially given Tony’s earlier comment, and she decides that the only way to get answers is to watch them all together.

 

Plus, she hasn’t been around the rest of the team for a month, and she’s missed them. “We can come back to this after dinner,” she insists.

 

Tony shrugs. “Yeah, why not?”

 

Phil is nearly speechless with joy when they all go out, especially in the face of so many superheroes gathered in one location, and all of them giving each other a hard time. Jane is used to it, but she remembers being more than a little awed when she’d first been faced with the entire team. Phil really is adorably awed, but it makes sense from Jane understands; Phil had always believed in superheroes.

 

“Come on, Phil,” Pepper says, putting her arm around his shoulders. “You stick with me, and I won’t steer you wrong.”

 

Phil appears overwhelmed, looking up at Pepper with ill-disguised worship in his eyes.

 

Jane grins. “Us normals have to stick together, right?” she asks, joining Pepper, and while she’s teasing, she also means every word.

 

She and Pepper have stuck together in the past, and even though Phil had stolen her equipment in the past, she’s gotten to know him, and she kind of likes the guy.

 

And right now, he’s just a kid who’s completely overwhelmed by the company he’s keeping; Jane identifies with that.

 

Phil looks up at Jane with the same kind expression he gives Pepper, like he thinks she’s about the most impressive thing he’s ever seen. It’s not all that different from how Thor looks at her, so Jane’s used to it, although it’s still flattering.

 

The shwarma place has the benefit of being familiar and being staffed by people who know them and aren’t particularly awed by the Avengers. Plus, everyone there politely ignores the Avengers in their midst.

 

Phil seems to like his wrap just fine—although it’s plain chicken with veggies and a side of tzatziki. Given how enthusiastically he eats the whole thing, he’s a convert.

 

“You like it?” Steve asks.

 

Phil nods. “Definitely. You like it, right?”

 

And suddenly Phil’s willingness to try shwarma is completely explained.

 

“Yeah, I like it,” Steve replies, looking a little embarrassed.

 

Tony and Bruce start snickering, and Pepper is clearly having a hard time hiding her laughter. Thor doesn’t bother. “I can see that you and Steve are great friends, Phil. Would you like to accompany me tomorrow?”

 

Phil glances at Steve. “I don’t know.”

 

“I thought Thor could come with us to the comics store,” Steve offers.

 

Phil’s eyes get huge. “The comics store? Really?”

 

Tony coughs. “Nerd alert,” he mutters, and then immediately starts. Jane is fairly certain that Bruce just kicked him under the table.

 

“You’re one to talk,” Pepper whispers. “Be nice.”

 

“I’m nice!” Tony protests. “Phil thinks I’m nice, right?”

 

Phil gives Tony a deeply skeptical look. “Sure.”

 

Jane glances at Pepper, and they both lose it completely, while Bruce puts his head in his hands, his shoulders shaking, and Thor and Steve just manage to keep a straight face.

 

Phil looks confused. “Did I say something wrong?”

 

“No, you said something exactly right,” Steve replies, putting an arm around Phil’s shoulders. “Trust me.”

 

“Of course,” Phil agrees easily.

 

And not that Jane is holding a grudge—because she does like Phil these days—but she really does like this version quite a bit.

 

**7.**

 

Thor shows up late the next morning after a very good night with Jane. He’d enjoyed his time on Asgard with her, but he’s happy to be on Midgard again with his friends.

 

Although he doesn’t seem to be needed in quite the same way by the Son of Coul as he had with Clint and Natasha.

 

“Good to have you, Thor,” Steve says, shaking his hand. “Phil should be out in a minute. I thought we’d grab lunch later, and then maybe do something else—although I’m not sure what yet.”

 

“I am available for anything,” Thor promises, knowing that Jane will be spending the day with Bruce and Tony in the lab. “I will happily help.”

 

“Phil’s pretty easy, really,” Steve says. “At least compared to Clint and Natasha.”

 

Thor nods. “He seems to be. What are we looking for today?”

 

Steve looks more than a little embarrassed, his cheeks flushing. “Oh, well, Phil really likes this particular comic, and I, uh, I found one he doesn’t have yet.”

 

Thor smiles. “And would these be Captain America comics?”

 

“Maybe,” Steve hedges. “Phil likes them.”

 

“And that’s all that matters,” Thor replies. “I heard he had trading cards, although I’m not sure what that means.”

 

Steve shrugs. “They’re just cards with pictures on them. People collect them.”

 

That seems fairly obvious, but Thor doesn’t question Steve further, given his obvious embarrassment.

 

Phil turns up a minute later wearing a t-shirt with cartoon versions of the Avengers on it. Thor frowns and glances at Steve.

 

Steve sighs and mouths, “Tony.”

 

Thor shrugs. Of course it’s Tony.

 

“I’m ready,” Phil announces. “Are we still going?”

 

“Absolutely,” Steve says. “I know a great place.”

 

The comic book store Steve intends on visiting is a long subway ride away, but Phil looks around with interest and peppers them both with questions.

 

“Are you from a long way away?” Phil asks Thor at some point.

 

Thor nods. “Very far away.”

 

“Like another country, or another planet?” Phil asks.

 

Thor is a little taken aback that Phil might know of other realms. “Another realm, actually.”

 

“I’ve been asking Jarvis to tell me everything about superheroes,” Phil explains. “The kids at school said that superheroes were fake, but they’re not, and when I get back, I’m going to tell them.”

 

Phil’s fervent belief touches Thor in a way he doesn’t expect. “There are many ways to be a hero,” Thor says gently. “Perhaps you will be one as well.”

 

Phil frowns. “There’s nothing special about me.”

 

“You might be surprised,” Steve replies, nudging Phil with an elbow. “You know who my hero was?”

 

Phil shakes his head wordlessly.

 

“My friend, Bucky,” Steve says. “He was always rescuing me.”

 

“And then you rescued him!” Phil says excitedly.

 

Steve smiles, although Thor can see his expression is tinged with sadness. “Yeah, and then I rescued him.”

 

Judging from Steve’s expression, Thor knows that either Steve couldn’t save Bucky, or Bucky had been lost to the ravages of time as so many of Steve’s friends had. Steve doesn’t talk about his past very often, or the people he’d known.

 

There’s a young man behind the counter at the comics store when they enter, thin and weedy, and he flails a bit when he sees them enter. “Hi!” he says, his voice cracking a bit. “Um, can I help you?”

 

“Do you want to look around?” Steve asks Phil.

 

Phil glances around, his eyes wide. “Can we?”

 

“Sure,” Steve agrees.

 

Phil nods.

 

“Go ahead,” Steve replies. To the boy behind the counter, he says, “We’ll just look around.”

 

The boy nods, and then ducks into the back, where they can hear him say loudly, “Jess! Captain _fucking_ America is here!”

 

“Language,” Steve calls out.

 

The boy practically tumbles back out, his face bright red. “Sorry!”

 

A woman with purple hair appears, a silver ring through one nostril. She’s wearing a t-shirt that says, “Let’s Eat Grandma! Commas Save Lives,” which puzzles Thor. She smiles warmly. “Welcome, gentlemen. Let me know if I can help in any way. Gary, why don’t you go check the inventory?”

 

Gary’s face falls dramatically. “But—”

 

Steve, always a compassionate man, says, “I don’t mind if he stays out here, if we’re not taking him away from his work. Maybe he’d help my friend find something he likes.”

 

Gary sends a pleading look at Jess, who rolls her eyes but nods. “Watch your language around the customers,” she warns him. “I don’t want to have to tell you again. We have kids in here.”

 

He flushes a deep red, looking at Steve with a half-guilty, half-longing expression on his face before joining Phil, who has been politely ignoring the interchange.

 

“I hope you don’t mind,” Jess murmurs, keeping her voice low, “but Gary will probably want you to sign something before you leave.”

 

Steve shrugs, a smile playing around his lips. “I don’t mind.”

 

“And you?” Jess asks, looking at Thor with a warm smile. “I recognized you right away.”

 

Thor blinks, a little surprised. He’s on Earth only sporadically, and he isn’t used to being recognized when he’s not in his armor. “I do not mind,” Thor says.

 

Steve hesitates. “I was the one who called about the comic. Did you get it?”

 

She glances at Phil. “For your friend?”

 

Steve nods. “He collects them.”

 

Jess wears an expression similar to the one Jane wears right before she proclaims something “adorable,” usually for reasons Thor doesn’t understand. “He’s going to be thrilled, then,” she assures him. “It’s not mint, but it’s in very good condition. Hold on a minute. I’ll go grab it for you.”

 

Thor wanders over to see how Phil and Gary are getting along. “But this one is great,” Gary is saying.

 

Phil shrugs. “It’s not Captain America.”

 

Gary laughs. “Well, kind of hard to compete when you’ve got the real thing. How did you meet him?”

 

“He’s, um, a family friend,” Phil says awkwardly. “He’s staying with me while my parents are away.”

 

Gary looks deeply envious. “Lucky. Do you know the rest of the Avengers?”

 

Phil shrugs. “Yeah, I guess. I mean, we’re staying at the Tower right now.”

 

“Stark Tower?” Gary asks incredulously. “You _know_ Tony Stark?”

 

“Um, yes?” Phil hazards. “He’s pretty nice.”

 

Thor thinks Phil is being rather generous; he has never heard anyone refer to Tony as “nice.” Generous, yes, also brave and stubborn, but not nice.

 

“Is it true that he’s sleeping with both Miss Potts and Dr. Banner?” Gary asks.

 

Thor decides it’s time to intervene, although he’s not at all worried that Phil will say something that will get Tony or the others in trouble. “Is that something you need to know?” Thor asks, looming over Gary.

 

Gary squeaks in surprise, and backs up into the shelf.

 

Phil smirks.

 

“Did you find something you wanted?” Thor asks.

 

Phil shrugs. “Nothing I can’t live without.”

 

“I’m getting hungry,” Thor says.

 

Phil nods. “I could definitely eat.”

 

When they get back up to the counter, Jess gives Gary a dirty look. “Inventory. Now.”

 

Gary slinks off without asking for his autograph, which Thor thinks might be punishment enough for being nosy.

 

“Sorry about that,” Jess says apologetically. “He’s obsessed with Iron Man and Tony Stark, and he hasn’t learned to think before he speaks.”

 

She says that last loud enough so that Gary is sure to hear it, then turns to Phil with a warm smile. “So, your friend here says you’re a comic book fan.”

 

Phil ducks his head. “Yeah, I guess.”

 

“Mostly Captain America, right?” Jess asks gently.

 

Phil hitches a shoulder. “Um.”

 

“Then I think I’ve got something for you,” Jess says. “Two somethings, actually.”

 

She hands Phil a comic book wrapped in plastic, and then another. Phil’s eyes go wide, and his jaw drops. “This is…”

 

“Captain Rogers asked me to set that one aside for you,” Jess says, tapping one of them. “But I had that other one just lying around. Not a lot of people want the comics now that we’ve got the real Captain America again. I can give it to you two for one.”

 

Phil shakes his head. “I don’t have any money.”

 

“My treat,” Steve insists. “I ordered it ahead.”

 

Phil stares up at Steve with hero-worship in his eyes. “Really?”

 

“Yeah, really,” Steve replies, ruffling his hair. “So you’ll remember me.”

 

Phil opens his mouth to reply, and then he just beams up at Steve, still speechless.

 

“I’ll just get these,” Steve says, pulling out his wallet. “Thor?”

 

“Come on,” Thor says. “You can show me why you love these comics so much.”

 

They’re sitting outside on the sidewalk as Phil slowly pages through his comic book when Steve emerges, as Phil explains why this particular issue is so special.

 

“This is the one where Captain America destroys the Hydra base that lets the Allies take Berlin,” Phil says. “This is a really hard issue to find.”

 

“Then that makes it special,” Thor agrees.

 

“You have to be really careful with comics,” Phil explains. “You don’t want to crease the covers or pages or anything, because that makes it less valuable. Not that I care about that so much. I mean…”

 

He trails off, and Thor smiles. “You have the real thing.”

 

“Is he—is he just pretending?” Phil asks quietly, and then looks stricken. “I mean, I know he’s not like that. I just—don’t understand.”

 

“He’s your friend,” Thor says gently. “As am I. As we all are.”

 

Phil’s lower lip trembles. “Okay.”

 

Thor puts an arm around Phil’s shoulders. “You’re our friend, and you do not need to fear we will abandon you.”

 

Phil sniffs. “I just thought maybe Steve was just being nice.”

 

“Steve is a nice guy,” Thor agrees. “But he’s still your friend. He can be both.”

 

“I just figured he was my friend _because_ he was a nice guy,” Phil replies, and then Steve steps outside.

 

“Hey, everything okay?” he asks.

 

Phil puts on a brave face, and Thor would never have known what lies beneath except for the last few minutes. “I’m great.”

 

Steve smiles. “Good man. Let’s go get something to eat, okay?”

 

And Thor wonders what the etiquette for telling Steve that Phil is so desperately seeking his attention and approval might be—although not for the first time. He hopes Jane might have an answer. But until then, he’ll enjoy their company.

 

**8.**

 

Tony stirs with a groan, feeling the familiar weight of Bruce’s body half on top of him. The couch in his lab is deep and comfortable, and big enough for two if they’re willing to cuddle—which, of course, they are.

 

“Time’s it?” Bruce mutters into Tony’s shoulder.

 

“Don’t know,” he replies. “J? What time is it?”

 

“It’s a little after 7 in the morning,” Pepper says, entering the lab just as Tony asks the question. “I brought coffee.”

 

“You are a goddess,” Bruce replies fervently, disentangling himself from Tony and sitting up, half on top of Tony’s legs. “How are you feeling?”

 

Pepper hands him a cup of coffee, looking half-amused and half-exasperated. “I’m fine.”

 

“I’m allowed to ask,” Bruce replies. “We have a vested interest in your well being.”

 

Pepper rolls her eyes, but her smile is indulgent. “I promise, I feel just fine.”

 

“Come here,” Tony says, sitting up and pulling her down for a kiss.

 

Pepper obliges, cupping his jaw with her hand, and then pulling back to hand him the second cup of coffee she’d been carrying. “Did you make any progress?”

 

Bruce yawns widely. “I think we’re getting somewhere, although I passed out around 3.”

 

“Five,” Tony replies smugly, although Bruce’s yawn is contagious. “We’re almost there.”

 

“Good. Then we’ll have dinner together tonight,” Pepper replies firmly. “We need to start talking about the nursery.”

 

Tony glances at Bruce, who looks quietly thrilled. “So soon?” Bruce asks cautiously.

 

“Might as well,” Tony says, knowing full well that Bruce isn’t entirely convinced that Tony’s on board with this development. “We won’t be able to get started until after Phil’s back to normal, but we can start planning.”

 

“Then I’ll see you two tonight,” Pepper replies.

 

“Steve and Phil will probably be there,” Bruce points out. “I didn’t think we were telling anybody yet.”

 

Pepper leans in to kiss Bruce, probably knowing as well as Tony does that physical affection is one of the best ways to reassure Bruce. He’d gone so long without physical contact, it’s no wonder it works as well as it does.

 

“Steve and Phil are family, and I’m far enough along that it’s going to be obvious pretty soon,” Pepper replies. “I think we can tell them. I’m far enough along now.”

 

Bruce rests a hand on her abdomen. “If that’s what you want.”

 

“I think it’s what _we_ want,” she corrects him. “And if you’re okay with it—”

 

Bruce glances at Tony.

 

“Hey, I’ve been sitting on this news for four weeks,” Tony says. “Which I feel is impressive, since I want to tell everybody.”

 

Bruce shrugs. “Then I guess we’ll start telling people.”

 

Pepper touches his cheek and then runs her hand over Tony’s hair. “Be good today, boys.”

 

They drink their coffee in silence for a little while, Bruce’s shoulder pressing into Tony’s, and Tony asks, “Are you okay with this?”

 

“I don’t know,” Bruce replies after a minute. “I never thought I’d have this opportunity, but what do I know about being a father? I can’t look to mine.”

 

Tony is quiet for a moment. “You know why I’m not worried about it?”

 

Bruce stares into his mug of coffee. “No, not really.”

 

“Because I remember what you were like with me,” Tony replies quietly. “And I figure if I fuck it up too badly, you and Pepper will tell me and make it right.”

 

“The difference is that you’re not going to turn into an enormous green rage monster and smash him or her,” Bruce replies softly.

 

“And yet you didn’t once go green with me,” Tony points out. “Do you know who else managed to keep their temper the entire time?”

 

Bruce frowns. “I thought Steve did okay, and so did Pepper.”

 

“They did okay, but you were my favorite,” Tony replies. “And there was a reason for that.”

 

Bruce’s smile is warm and a little shy. “You were pretty good with me, too.”

 

“And _that_ is why I’m not worried,” Tony says. “It’s the three of us together.”

 

“Always,” Bruce promises. He lets out a breath, and gets up from the couch. “Breakfast?”

 

“Sounds good,” Tony replies, following him out to the kitchen. “We can review what we have. Jane and Thor might join us.”

 

Bruce chuckles. “I guess I’d better start cooking then.”

 

Generally speaking, the team eats together after a battle, and occasionally when someone—usually Steve or Thor—suggests a team movie night.

 

And, of course, when one of them gets de-aged they tend to eat together more often than not.

 

This morning, Jane and Thor join them after Bruce finishes the first batch of French toast, and Bruce asks, “Are you guys hungry?”

 

Thor grins. “Food would be most welcome, friend Bruce.”

 

“I could eat,” Jane agrees. “But don’t go to any trouble.”

 

“It’s no trouble,” Bruce replies. “Take a look at what we came up with last night.”

 

Jane sits next to Tony and looks at the schematics on his Stark Pad. “We’re thinking something like a medallion,” Tony explains. “We can shrink it down that far, but no farther.”

 

“Like a St. Christopher’s medallion,” Jane says.

 

Tony shrugs. “Sure, if you want to think about it like that.”

 

Tony lets Jane study the plans while he joins Bruce at the stove, watching as he expertly flipped slices of French toast.

 

“This is really good,” Phil says enthusiastically. “Way better than my mom’s.”

 

“The secret is orange juice and a little vanilla,” Bruce replies with a grin over his shoulder at Phil.

 

Phil frowns. “Then it’s not a secret, is it?”

 

Steve snorts, and Bruce chuckles. “Well, I didn’t tell you how much of each I used, did I?”

 

Phil looks hopeful. “Will you show me?”

 

“I don’t know,” Bruce says slowly. “Maybe you won’t want to eat breakfast with us anymore.”

 

“But I’ll always want to eat your breakfast!” Phil protests, with a sidelong look at Steve. “I mean, as long as I’m here, anyway.”

 

Steve leans in, nudging Phil’s shoulder with his own. “The way I figure it, we get you back to where you belong, and then grown-up you can eat breakfast with us.”

 

Phil frowns. “But you might not want me around then.”

 

Bruce puts another plate of French toast on the counter. “I think we can guarantee that we’ll like you when you’re grown-up, too, Phil. In fact, I’ll swear to it, and I’ll bet Steve would too.”

 

“It’s a no-brainer,” Steve agrees. “You trust me?”

 

Phil gives Steve a startled look. “You’re Captain America.”

 

“There you go,” Tony says, just to see the expression of surprise on Phil’s face. “You can trust Captain America, and what he says goes. You are now one of the cool kids.”

 

Phil blinks, and then an incredulous smile breaks out over his face. “Seriously?”

 

“Seriously,” Steve agrees.

 

Phil blushes right down to his roots, and Tony thinks that’s about one of the most adorable things he’s seen, and he surreptitiously snaps a picture with his phone. Hi-res cellphone cameras are so handy for blackmail material.

 

“Is this— _oh_!” Jane exclaims. “Bruce, this is ingenious!”

 

Tony scowls. “Hey! I had something to do with it, too.”

 

“The design is fantastic,” Jane replies, sounding conciliatory. “But this is essentially a personal shield that dispels the kind of radiation that Asgardian magic uses.”

 

Bruce shrugs in his usual self-effacing way. “That’s the idea. It needs some refinement, which is hopefully where you come in, and we’ll need to test it, but that’s what we’ve got.”

 

“I think it’s workable,” Jane agrees. “And at least until we can figure out how it works, and how to reverse its effects.”

 

Thor leans over Jane’s shoulder. “I know little of my brother’s magic, but I’ll help you test it.”

 

“If you wear it, it might interfere with your ability to control Mjolnir,” Bruce points out, putting another plate of French toast on the counter.

 

Thor shrugs. “And then I’ll take it off.”

 

“If only it were that easy to reverse the effects once someone has been hit with it,” Tony remarks. “We’ll work out the bugs this afternoon, and then test it on Thor when we’re sure it’s not going to do him any harm.”

 

“I doubt you could do me any permanent damage,” Thor replies.

 

Tony shrugs. “Still, let’s not risk it. I’m fond of you. More importantly, I like Jane a lot, and she’d never forgive me if I let something happen to you.”

 

“It’s true,” Jane agrees with an impish grin. “And I would definitely blame you.”

 

Bruce sits down to eat his own breakfast. “Why not me?”

 

“Because you’re my favorite,” Jane replies.

 

Tony mimes being stabbed. “Why is Bruce everyone’s favorite?”

 

She laughs. “For the same reason Bruce is your favorite?”

 

Tony has to concede the point. “To be fair, though, Bruce and Pepper are tied.”

 

Phil is watching the proceedings with wide eyes, apparently not realizing that superheroes sometimes banter over breakfast.

 

“So, you don’t need us for anything today?” Steve asks. “Because Clint and Natasha—

 

The elevator dings.

 

“—are here,” Steve finishes. “We hadn’t really talked about what we were going to do.”

 

“We’re going to be in the lab all day, at least until dinner,” Tony says. “Bruce is cooking.”

 

Bruce elbows him in the ribs— _hard_. “Clint, Natasha, there’s extra French toast. If you’re here for dinner, Tony’s buying.”

 

Tony waves a hand in agreement, still trying to catch his breath.

 

Natasha smirks. “It’s nice to know that _someone_ can keep you in line, Tony.”

 

“In fairness to Pepper, she’s perfectly capable of it, too,” Bruce says mildly. “What were you guys thinking today?”

 

Clint rubs his hands together. “Double feature. They’re showing _Flash Gordon_ and _Captain America_ today back to back.”

 

Phil frowns. “Which _Captain America_? Because the 1944 version is way off base. They didn’t even get the name right!”

 

Tony turns his laughter into a cough.

 

“I have a better idea,” Natasha says. “Let’s play laser tag again.”

 

Steve frowns. “Really?”

 

“Laser tag teaches valuable skills,” Natasha says firmly. “Also, I get Phil and Steve on my team.”

 

“Wait, why?” Clint demands.

 

Thor clears his throat pointedly.

 

“Okay, Thor is great, but I don’t see why you get Phil _and_ Captain America,” Clint protests.

 

“Because I selected first,” Natasha replies. “And I want Phil and Steve on my team.”

 

Phil looks up at Steve, like he can’t quite believe someone wants him on their team. “Really? I’m not very good.”

 

Steve puts an arm around Phil’s shoulders. “Natasha knows you have hidden talents, and so do the rest of us. That’s why Clint’s so angry she’s getting you.”

 

Tony snaps another picture.

 

“I thought it was you she wanted,” Phil protests.

 

Natasha shakes her head. “No, it was you. Although Steve’s a good person to have calling the shots.”

 

“Fine,” Clint says. “But we switch teams after the first round, and then I get first pick.”

 

“We’ll let Phil decide,” Natasha replies.

 

“To the lab!” Tony says, although he kind of wants to go play laser tag. He suspects it’s going to be a good time, but there’s science to do.

 

Because as adorable as the Avengers might be as children, Tony doesn’t want a repeat—and who knows what they’ll do next?

 

“Definitely,” Bruce says. “You guys have fun today.”

 

“I’ll be there in a minute,” Jane calls as he and Tony head for the elevator.

 

Bruce glares at him. “We’re supposed to talk about the nursery tonight.”

 

“So? We tell the whole team at once,” Tony replies.

 

“That’s not what we talked about,” Bruce objects.

 

Tony frowns, feeling unexpectedly hurt. “So, what? You don’t want to let people know you’re sleeping with me? That you’re slumming it?”

 

Bruce looks away. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

 

“Then what?” Tony asks.

 

“If we tell the whole team, and they react badly…” Bruce trails off. “If I have to leave—”

 

“Why would their reactions mean you have to leave?” Tony asks as the elevator doors open. “You know Pepper and I don’t care what anybody thinks.”

 

Bruce shakes his head. “But if—”

 

“The three of us,” Tony insists. “You promised me always, and I mean to take you up on that.”

 

Bruce takes a deep breath. “But if I’m disrupting the team dynamics—”

 

“I don’t give a flying fuck about team dynamics,” Tony insists. “We’ll work it out. The important thing is _us_.”

 

Bruce follows Tony into the lab. “I’m on board, I just—”

 

Tony remembers Phil’s surprise at being included, at having people want him around, and realizes that Bruce still thinks Tony and Pepper might decide to ditch him, that they could have a child between the three of them and still shut Bruce out.

 

The best thing they can do, Tony thinks, is to tell the entire team, because that will mean they can’t just get rid of Bruce and maintain the status quo.

 

“We’re telling the whole team tonight,” Tony insists. “Or we’re telling whoever is there. And for the record, I think it’s your kid.”

 

Bruce stares at him. “You don’t know that.”

 

Tony drags Bruce into the lab and speaks in a low voice, not wanting to be overheard. “I’m _always_ careful, Bruce. Call it years of practice. And yeah, it’s possible it’s mine, but I don’t think so. I think the kid is yours, and I don’t care. Even if I knew for sure, I wouldn’t care. _It would still be my kid_.”

 

Bruce swallows hard. “Because I’m yours, and Pepper’s.”

 

Tony puts a hand on Bruce’s cheek and brings him a little closer. “ _Now_ you’re getting it.”

 

Their kiss holds an edge of desperation, and Bruce threads his fingers through Tony’s hair.

 

They’re still kissing when there’s the sound of someone clearing their throat in the doorway. “Should I come back later?” Jane asks, sounding amused.

 

Bruce laughs breathlessly. “No, we’re good.”

 

Tony squeezes the back of Bruce’s neck. “Are we?”

 

“We’re definitely good,” Bruce replies. “But now we have work to do.”

 

Tony rubs his hands together. “Right, work. Let’s get those personal shields up and running.”

 

He and Bruce have worked with Jane enough at this point to immediately fall into a rhythm, using the scientific shorthand they’ve developed over the last months. He knows Bruce is most comfortable when he’s in the lab, and they’d first bonded over science and a shared language.

 

Working on this project is a good reminder to both of them that there are some things that won’t change.

 

It’s nearly dinnertime when all three of them pronounce themselves satisfied.

 

“Jarvis, do we have what we need for fabrication?” Tony asks.

 

“The prototype will be ready by midnight, sir,” Jarvis replies.

 

Tony glances at Bruce. “Make that tomorrow morning,” he replies, knowing full well that they’ll probably want the time with just the three of them after the announcement tonight.

 

Besides, he has plans.

 

“We test tomorrow, then,” Jane says cheerfully. “Thor should be around then.”

 

“Come on, Brucie. We have dinner to order,” Tony says, putting his arm around Bruce shoulders.

 

He’s going to make a statement tonight, and the rest of the team can just deal with the reality.

 

**9.**

 

Oddly enough, Phil turns out to be the best at laser tag the second time around—or maybe it’s not so odd. The rules go against the rules of combat most of them have learned: no lying down, no running, and no climbing on equipment. Phil, on the other hand, doesn’t remember his combat experience, so he has no problem following the rules, and he’s familiar with the setup now.

 

Clint gets into trouble within three minutes, Thor within five, and Steve has to keep reminding himself that he’s mostly going up against a bunch of kids, and he needs to not treat laser tag like a real battle.

 

Steve is fairly sure that Natasha is cheating, but she’s too sneaky to get caught.

 

Just from that standpoint alone, it’s probably no surprise that the team that Natasha and Phil are on wins hands-down, although there’s a general clamor when everyone realizes just _who_ had been playing with them.

 

Steve hears the murmurs go through the crowd like wildfire. “It’s Captain America!”

 

“And Hawkeye! I was on Hawkeye’s team!”

 

“I was on Black Widow’s, and she _rocks_!”

 

“It’s Thor, too! So awesome!”

 

Phil is clearly torn on whether to pretend he doesn’t know them, or to make a show of the fact that he _does_.

 

Steve short-circuits that decision by putting a hand on Phil’s shoulder once he hangs up his vest. “You’re with us, remember?” he asks in a low voice.

 

The other kids immediately look both envious and incredulous, like they can’t quite believe that Phil is in their company.

 

One brave young girl approaches. “Captain America? Can I get your autograph?”

 

“Sure,” Steve replies. “What do you want me to sign?”

 

The girl’s face falls. She looks to be about Phil’s age, and she’s wearing a too-large Captain America t-shirt. “I don’t have anything.”

 

“Steve will sign your shirt,” Phil says. “We’ll find a marker, and then you can keep it forever.”

 

Her face just lights up. “Awesome!”

 

Someone finds a Sharpie, and all of them sign her t-shirt, and then all the kids want them to sign. The first girl even asks Phil to sign, which he does with a shy, pleased expression.

 

“I’m not anybody special,” Phil says quietly.

 

“You’re friends with Captain America,” she replies, her smile just as shy. “That makes you pretty cool.”

 

Eventually, the folks in charge chase them out, and they sign a few more autographs out on the sidewalk before extricating themselves from the crowd.

 

“I say your victory calls for ice cream,” Clint announces. “Steve, you’re buying.”

 

Steve smiles. “We won, which means I think _you’re_ buying. Isn’t that right, Phil?”

 

“Definitely!” Phil says loyally, and he’s beaming from ear to ear at the reminder of their victory.

 

Natasha rolls her eyes. “Clint, don’t be cheap. _You_ will be buying.” Her tone says “or else” even more clearly than her words. Clint knows better than to argue with her.

 

Clint shrugs good-naturedly. “Hey, worth a shot.”

 

“It was a valiant effort, my friend,” Thor consoles him. “But I do believe we owe them ice cream for their victory.”

 

“It’s only because Natasha called dibs on Phil,” Clint grumbles, although he gives the rest of the team a sly wink when Phil isn’t looking.

 

Phil appears chuffed, although he says, “I’m sure you guys would have gotten the hang of it in the second round.”

 

It’s the sort of sly observation Steve remembers grownup Phil making, and he misses that, although he’s glad to see that side of Phil’s personality emerging.

 

Maybe Phil’s hero worship is finally waning. Steve finds it flattering, but really, he just wants Phil to look at him as a person.

 

They find a local ice cream place, which _still_ doesn’t live up to Steve’s memory of the soda shop around the corner from his youth.

 

Not that he had the money to go there often, but he remembers it being better, rightly or wrongly.

 

Still, the sundae Steve orders is pretty good, and Phil orders the same thing Steve does and eats it with a single-minded focus and obvious enjoyment.

 

“Save some room for dinner,” Steve advises him. “I think Tony’s buying tonight.”

 

Phil swallows his mouthful of ice cream before speaking—unlike some kids Steve can remember. “I worked up an appetite during laser tag. That was awesome!”

 

“We did quite well,” Natasha agrees. “You scored a very respectable number of points.”

 

Phil has clearly realized how difficult it is to get a compliment out of Natasha. “Thank you,” he says with a smile, and then digs into his sundae again.

 

It’s been a good afternoon, and they take a detour to Central Park before heading back to the Tower. Clint shows off by hanging upside down from the monkey bars and then coaches Phil across. Phil teaches Thor how to swing—although Steve is fairly sure Thor already knows the mechanics—and then Thor spins Phil on the merry-go-round, along with half a dozen other kids.

 

The air is crisp and the leaves are beginning to fall, and as they walk back to the Tower, Phil wades through the leaves with all the enjoyment of a child, and then Phil races back to them, and Steve swings him up on his back, Phil’s arms wrapped around his neck, his legs around Steve’s waist, and it’s a bittersweet moment.

 

Because Steve really likes Phil, whatever age he is, but he _misses_ Phil as he was, because Phil had done a lot for him, and had put up with Steve’s stupid questions without complaint or teasing.

 

Still, Steve carries Phil piggyback to the Tower and knows he’ll miss this, too, although he couldn’t articulate why, exactly.

 

When they get back to the Tower, Tony, Bruce, Pepper and Jane are gathered in the living quarters, and Bruce says, “Dinner should be here shortly if you guys want to clean up.”

 

There’s a general stampede to the bathrooms, although Steve is pretty sure no one does anything more than wash their hands and splash cold water on their faces.

 

That’s the nice thing about being an Avenger; everyone has seen the others covered in sweat and grime and blood, and they’ve all sat down to eat together in spite of it. They don’t really stand on ceremony around here.

 

Dinner happens to be Italian, maybe because it can be portioned out and served family-style, with huge containers of pasta and pans of lasagna and loaves of fresh garlic bread wrapped up in foil.

 

Tony breaks out the wine—both red and white—although Steve notices that Pepper sticks with water. The atmosphere is convivial, like the family dinners that Steve had never had, but which are starting to become commonplace among the Avengers. It might not happen all the time, but the fact is, the team comes together any time there’s a problem, and they take care of their own.

 

Steve’s reflecting on that when Tony taps his wineglass with his knife. “I have an announcement.”

 

They all turn to look at Tony, and Steve wonders what on earth he might say.

 

“So, announce,” Clint says, his tone slightly mocking, and Steve notices how Bruce ducks his head, as though waiting for the aftermath.

 

Tony looks over at Pepper, and Steve can see that he’s handing it off to her, although why Tony’s doing so, he couldn’t say.

 

“I’m pregnant,” Pepper says simply.

 

There’s a long silence at that, and Steve sees Bruce staring determinedly down at his plate, not looking up, and the defiant tilt to Tony’s chin, and Pepper’s impassive expression, and he remembers. He remembers being a child and seeing things he couldn’t understand that made perfect sense as an adult. He remembers how having Pepper and Bruce—and even Tony—around had made a difference.

 

He suspects that that others’ responses are going to make or break the team right now, and he’s the captain. He’ll lead by example, always.

 

“Congratulations,” Steve says, hoping his sincerity shows through in his voice. “To _all_ of you.” When Bruce glances up, Steve smiles at him, letting Bruce know that he knows the score.

 

“Cigars all around,” Clint chimes in. “You know, if it’s a girl, Brucilla is a great name.”

 

Bruce rolls his eyes. “No, absolutely not.”

 

And then they all laugh, even Phil, who looks a little confused, probably not getting all the undercurrents, but Steve figures this is good.

 

Whatever comes, they’re a family.

 

**10.**

 

Bruce is trying very, very hard not to hover over Pepper, although he’s not sure how successful he’s been, especially as he brings her a mug of herbal tea and a plate of toast in bed.

 

It’s not that he’s worried about Pepper—she’s healthy, and she’s taking care of herself—but he’s been around the block a few times, and he knows just how much could go wrong.

 

So, he brings her tea and toast in bed, because he’s not going to be an overprotective asshole, or try to tell her what she can and can’t do.

 

Tony’s still sleeping off their late night next to Pepper, but she stirs when Bruce perches on the edge of the bed nearest her, the side he’d recently vacated.

 

“Mmm,” she says, sitting up. “I could get used to this.”

 

“It’s not too much?” Bruce asks.

 

Pepper pulls him down for a kiss. “Breakfast in bed is _never_ too much, just for the record.”

 

“Just to warn you, I’m probably going to be insufferable,” Bruce replies.

 

“You’re never insufferable, and I’ll let you know if you cross the line.” Pepper takes a sip of tea and smiles. “Ginger.”

 

“Settles the stomach,” Bruce agrees.

 

“Are you any closer to finishing the personal shield?” Pepper asks.

 

“Still fine tuning it,” Bruce admits. “We’re starting a second round of testing on Thor today. Good thing he’s so game.”

 

Pepper smiles at him over the rim of her mug. “You’ll get it. I have faith in you.”

 

“I think you were the first—other than Tony,” Bruce replies.

 

Well, and Betty, but Bruce tries not to think about those days; he prefers to live in the present.

 

“I’ll just have to be thankful for our good fortune, then,” Pepper replies.

 

Tony grunts. “Is it morning already? Really?”

 

“Really,” Bruce replies fondly. “Sorry to break it to you.”

 

“I guess we’d better head down to the lab, then.” Tony sits up and presses a kiss to her cheek.

 

“Shower first,” Bruce insists. “I need one.”

 

Pepper’s expression turns predatory. “I’ll watch.”

 

The shower takes longer than it would have under other circumstances, but Bruce can’t say he’s in a hurry to get out, not when he has Tony’s hands all over him, and Pepper watching from the sidelines.

 

When they get out and are toweling off, Pepper kisses both of them warmly. “I have to get ready. Thanks for the show.”

 

“Any time,” Tony says.

 

Bruce just kisses her again, lingering a bit.

 

It’s been three days since they made their announcement, and nothing has changed. Their friends aren’t treating them any differently, the three of them are still solid, and he and Tony are still working on the personal shield with Jane.

 

Bruce has to admit that it’s a relief to know that their friends will stand behind them. In fact, he’s pretty sure that Jane and Natasha are already organizing a baby shower—Jane with cautious enthusiasm, and Natasha with the same grim determination she’d give a mission.

 

He hadn’t thought either of them would be into that sort of thing, but maybe the fact that they’re on the team makes the difference.

 

“Okay, let’s give this another shot,” Tony late that afternoon when they’ve finished tweaking the design, and are pretty sure it’s not going to kill anybody.

 

Thor, who has hung around all day, watching movies on a spare monitor and generally placing himself at their disposal, steps forward, holding out a hand for the medallion.

 

It’s about as large, and as thick as a quarter, with the Avengers symbol stamped on each side.

 

Thor holds the medallion in his left hand and holds out his right hand for Mjolnir, which is propped in a corner of the room. Nothing happens, and Thor frowns. “Is that supposed to happen?”

 

Bruce begins to feel cautiously optimistic. “Put the medallion down and try again.”

 

Thor hands it to Jane, and Mjolnir immediately flies into his right hand.

 

Tony whoops in victory and slings an arm over Bruce’s shoulder, putting a smacking kiss on his cheek, and then does the same with Jane.

 

Steve sticks his head into the lab, watching them with a bemused expression. “Am I interrupting anything?”

 

“Just us being _awesome_!” Tony crows.

 

At Steve’s questioning look, Jane holds up the medallion. “I think we have something that will work.”

 

Steve enters with Phil close on his heels. “That’s it?” Steve asks, holding out his hand.

 

“That’s it,” Jane agrees.

 

Tony turns to the monitor that has all the data readings. “Jarvis, can you compare and contrast the last few tests with this one?”

 

Bruce hears Phil ask, “Can I see?”

 

Bruce’s attention is split, and it takes a few seconds for the question to register. “Wait!” he says, turning to look at them, but it’s already too late.

 

The medallion is in Phil’s hand, and his blue eyes go wide with surprise. “What—”

 

Steve lunges for Phil, and Tony springs forward to grab his arm. “It’s too late now,” Tony says. “Steve, we have to let it happen.”

 

As far as Bruce knows, no one has actually been witness to the transformation yet, whether de-aging or re-aging, and he finds his curiosity piqued, even though fear has his heart in his throat.

 

Steve makes a sound that Bruce isn’t sure he can adequately name—it’s the sound someone makes when they know a devastating loss is imminent.

 

“It’s going to be okay,” Tony says, and the fact that Tony is offering comfort to Steve tells Bruce just how worried Tony is.

 

Bruce has never watched a transformation from this angle, and he stares, entranced, as Phil seems to grow and age 40 years in less than a minute. It’s like watching a time-lapse video as Phil grows, the seams of his clothes giving way under what must be incredible pressure.

 

He finds himself mentally calculating the force that Phil’s body must be exerting, and then Phil is himself again, collapsing like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

 

Steve leaps for Phil, meeting no resistance this time, getting to him just before he hits the floor, Thor on Phil’s other side, helping to take some of Phil’s weight.

 

Bruce falls to his knees next to Phil and fumbles for a pulse. “Strong and steady,” Bruce says. “I think we should probably get him to bed. If the same thing happens as the last few times, he’ll wake up in 12 hours or so none the worse for wear.”

 

“I’ll go grab a blanket,” Jane says. “And someone will need to get clothing for him.”

 

“I’ll take care of it,” Steve says. “I still have Phil’s keys.” When Tony gives him a sharp look, Steve adds, “I’ve been watering his plants.”

 

Tony snorts. “Of course you have.”

 

“I’m sure Phil will appreciate it,” Bruce replies, wanting to offer Steve the same kind of comfort Steve had offered him the other night.

 

“I guess we’ll see,” Steve says. “Thor, you got him?”

 

“Of course,” Thor replies. “Are you going to retrieve his clothing?”

 

Steve nods, looking a little uncomfortable. “Yeah, that’s the idea. Thanks.”

 

Bruce winces, having some inkling of what’s going on, and feeling sorry for Steve. He knows all too well how weird the transition can be when someone you love makes the transition from adult to child and back again. “We’ll call you if anything changes,” Bruce promises.

 

“Thanks,” Steve says, managing a smile. “I’ll be back shortly.”

 

“What’s with him?” Tony asks as Steve leaves, apparently mystified.

 

Bruce shakes his head. “It’s always an adjustment. Surely you remember.”

 

Tony shrugs. “It was a little different for me at the time.”

 

Jane returns with a blanket, and Thor wraps him up before picking Phil up in a fireman’s carry. “His room?”

 

“Yeah,” Bruce replies. “We can have Jarvis keep an eye on him.”

 

Thor carries him off, and Tony picks up the medallion from the floor. “So, success!”

 

“I just hope that it doesn’t hurt Phil to have it disrupted,” Bruce replies. “But yeah. Looks like we won’t have to worry about Loki or his fans again.”

 

Tony holds up the medallion. “You know, we could probably make this into a ring if you’d prefer that.”

 

Bruce raises his eyebrows. “If you’re proposing marriage, I would think you’d want to ask both of us at once.”

 

“Or maybe just matching necklaces,” Tony teases. “We’ll stamp them with a symbol unique to us.”

 

 _That_ feels right to Bruce. “I like that idea.”

 

“All right,” Tony replies. “We’ll talk to Pepper and figure something out.”

 

And then he leans in for a kiss, and Bruce thinks he has everything he’d ever wanted and more.

 

**11.**

 

Phil knows immediately that he’s not in his own bed. For a moment, he can’t remember anything other than the fact that Steve had been coming over for dinner.

 

And then his memories come rushing back, and he closes his eyes tightly, the last month or so coming back to him in a hot rush of embarrassment.

 

It’s not something he’s used to feeling these days, although he’d been intimately acquainted with the emotion during most of his adolescence, at least until he’d taken up martial arts and had learned to hide his emotions and his obsession with Captain America and comic books.

 

Phil had boxed up his trading cards and comics and vintage posters for years until he’d been comfortable and secure enough to put them on display.

 

Being an Army Ranger, and then Nick Fury’s right hand man, does a lot to boost someone’s confidence.

 

And now he’s in Tony Stark’s guest room, with memories of Tony being really decent to him—kind, even. He remembers Bruce’s tenderness, and Pepper’s care, and how Clint and Natasha had dropped everything to help look after them, and Thor and Jane’s affection.

 

Most of all, Phil remembers how the team had come around him without so much as a ripple that he could see.

 

Steve, though—Steve is in a different category altogether. Phil has no idea how he feels about Steve right now; between childish hero-worship—that hasn’t been misplaced—and real respect as an adult…

 

It’s a little too confused right now, especially when he sees the comics Steve had bought him on the nightstand. And one of those comics was one he’d been trying to find for _years_. That seems to make a statement.

 

Phil gets cleaned up and dresses in the clothing that someone—he suspects Steve—had left for him. It’s not his suit, but it’s a pair of his favorite jeans and a gray t-shirt. Phil recognizes the clothing as what he’d worn the first time he’d had Steve over outside of work.

 

Phil isn’t sure how to take that, but hope wells up in his chest regardless, even if he couldn’t say why exactly.

 

When he emerges from his bedroom, it’s early in the morning, and Phil isn’t surprised to see Bruce and Pepper at the counter. Bruce is drinking coffee, and Pepper’s mug has a paper tag on a string hanging over the edge, the green wording clearly marking it as decaf tea.

 

Phil suddenly remembers Pepper’s announcement. “Congratulations to both of you,” Phil says quietly.

 

Pepper smiles, and Bruce looks both surprised and pleased.

 

“Thank you,” Pepper says. “We’re excited.”

 

“As you should be,” Phil replies. “You’re going to be wonderful parents, and I include Tony in that.”

 

Bruce looks a little embarrassed, but he thanks Phil graciously. “How are you feeling?”

 

“A little odd,” Phil replies honestly.

 

Bruce gives him a sympathetic smile. “Yeah, I get that.”

 

“Agent!” Tony enters the common room, as obnoxious as always. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but as adorable as you were, it’s good to have you back to normal.”

 

Phil blinks, realizing that Tony’s being sincere, and—he’s not quite sure what to do with that. He finally lands on, “Thank you.”

 

“Steve is going to really appreciate it,” Tony adds, and that’s the Stark Phil knows.

 

Bruce elbows Tony sharply in the ribs. “Be nice,” he warns.

 

And Phil has to chuckle, because the sight is so familiar, and so welcome.

 

“Hey.”

 

Phil stiffens when he hears Steve’s voice, and Pepper says, “I think that’s my cue to head to the office. Bruce, Tony, I’ll see you tonight.”

 

“We’ve got stuff in the lab,” Bruce announces, grabbing Tony’s arm and hauling him off, although it doesn’t appear that Tony’s protesting.

 

Phil clears his throat. “Where are the others?”

 

“I’m sure Thor’s with Jane in her apartment, and I told Clint and Natasha that I’d let them know when you were awake so they could drop by,” Steve says slowly. “I could call them now if you want.”

 

Phil shakes his head. “No, that’s okay. We can catch up with them later.”

 

He owes Clint and Natasha a lot, but he’s not sure he wants to see them right now, not when he’s still getting used to being in his own body again.

 

“I don’t know what you need,” Steve admits. “It was easier when you were a kid, so you have to tell me.”

 

Phil thinks about it for a long moment. “I think I’d like to take up where we left off.”

 

Steve frowns. “You mean—what do you mean?”

 

“You coming over for a dinner that I’ll cook,” Phil says explicitly. “We can watch a movie, or whatever you want to do.”

 

Steve opens his mouth, closes it, and then asks, “Is this like a date?”

 

“If you want,” Phil replies. When Steve’s expression closes off, he hastens to add, “It’s a dream come true that you’re my friend. Anything more is up to you.”

 

Steve smiles, and it’s like the sun breaking out. “It’s good to have you back,” he replies. “And let’s just see where this goes.”

 

“Okay,” Phil agrees, and he can’t help but think that they’re heading somewhere good.

 

He has Steve Rogers as a friend—and maybe something more—and the Avengers are a real team, which he’s experienced firsthand.

 

“Are hugs allowed?” Steve asks.

 

Phil laughs. “Yes. Of course.” Because Steve has seen him at his worst, and a hug from Captain America is something his 8-year-old self cherished.

 

The truth is, Phil hasn’t really changed all that much in 40 years.

 

And Steve pulls him close and holds on tight, and all Phil can do is hug him back, feeling as though he has everything he ever wanted.


End file.
